A Date to Die For
by Loopstagirl
Summary: A simple charity event should be nothing for men used to saving the world. But they were Tracys... and nothing was ever that straight forward for a Tracy.
1. Chapter 1

**Nope, still own absolutely nothing!**

**This one is more light hearted, I promise!**

**And of course, where would I be without the world's best beta? Once again, a huge thank you to Bee for being a super star! THANK YOU!**

**Enjoy! ;)**

"Another."

Scott pushed his empty glass across the bar, flipped down a note and turned almost pleading eyes onto the barman, who only hesitated for a moment before nodding, shooting Scott a sympathetic look. This was one of those nights where he would never be able to say no to any of his customers. He knew that he would never work again if he got on their bad side. The room contained some of the richest and most influential people in the world, all gathered together in one of Jeff Tracy's function rooms. The man owned the whole building, guest rooms taking up the lower floors while the top three had been turned into different conference and function rooms. All the guest rooms were empty right now, the occupants being at the function. They were on the top floor tonight; the biggest room of them all as some of the most important people in America were present. The ironic thing was, he knew that most didn't know his name and wouldn't bother to find out unless he did something wrong.

"Same thing, Scott?"

"Please…"

Martin chuckled at the whine that escaped his boss's son. _Most_ might not spare him a second glance, but the Tracys were not like that. The size of their business meant it was impossible for them to know all of their staff, but they tried. Martin knew he was lucky to be able to work on nights like this, it took a lot of effort and security checks in order to select the right members of staff. He knew others thought his friendship with the three elder Tracy sons had something to do with it, but he didn't care. They could think what they wanted; he knew Mr Tracy would never show favouritism like that.

"That bad?"

"You have no idea…"

"Don't you dare drink that, Scott!"

Both Scott and Martin jumped as a hand came out of nowhere and plucked the glass away. Virgil took one look at it, shrugged and downed it himself, pulling a face at the after taste.

"How the hell can you drink that stuff?"

"Apparently I can't without a brother stealing it." Scott couldn't help but be in a mood. He didn't even understand why he had to come to this sort of thing; his father knew how much he hated it. His despondency must have shown in his face for Virgil chuckled softly, his hand squeezing his brother's shoulder momentarily before rising and ruffling Scott's hair. Instantly, the older man jerked his own hand up, trying to flatten it down again.

"Virg," his voice was an angry hiss as he glanced around. "Don't."

"Why, afraid I'll mess up your good looks? No fear of that. That would mean you would have to have some to start with."

"Tell Dad that."

If anything, Scott's scowl got even deeper. Martin caught Virgil's eye and slid an ordinary coke across to the oldest brother. He wasn't even sure if Scott noticed there was nothing else in it as he drained it in two gulps.

"C'mon, Scotty, you know it's for a good cause."

"So why don't you do it?"

"You know we have been through this. John is still away on _business_, Gordon did it last year, Al is protesting that things are just getting really good with Tin-Tin and I get out of it because I have to play at his charity dinners. If I can sit through those, you can do this."

"But that doesn't involve people… you know, fawning over you."

"Mm, must be so hard. A date with the most eligible bachelors the rich have to offer_. _God knows why they end up bidding so much for it. Who would want to spend time in your charming company?"

Without a word, Scott fished an ice cube out of the remains of his drink and flicked it at Virgil. It was a sign of Virgil's hidden sympathy that he didn't instantly retaliate, but smiled softly.

"Come on, let's leave Martin do his job."

"I can't go in _there_."

"You're gonna have to in a moment to be auctioned off, oh brother of mine. Why not just get it over and done with?" Not waiting for an answer, Virgil grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him from his seat. Scott only just managed to get his feet under him in time, but Virgil knew better than to think his brother had had too much to drink. Despite protesting about the whole evening, Virgil knew Scott was fully aware it was for a good cause. Just because they saved the world in secret time and time again didn't mean they couldn't be seen to be trying to do the same thing in the public eye sometimes.

However, that didn't mean Scott had any interest in giving Virgil some aid in getting him to move into the main function room.

"Remind me why again I decided to come?"

"Moral support," Scott muttered, leaning more and more on his brother in an attempt to get Virgil to give up trying to get him to move. In response, the younger man simply jabbed his elbow into Scott's ribs.

"_Moral _support, Scott. Moral. Not actual support. Will you please stand…" Before Virgil could finish his sentence, Scott practically snapped upright. The weight loss took Virgil by surprise and he almost stumbled. Scott's hand on his elbow kept him steady and Virgil looked up to find a few of their father's business acquaintances heading in their direction. Virgil could barely suppress his own groan. It wasn't just the women that Scott needed support with. It was the men who had decided that since Jeff Tracy's sons didn't seem to be playing too much of an active role in their father's business, they might want to come and work for a rival company instead. It wasn't their offers that annoyed the boys, it was their presumptuous attitudes. They seemed to think that the boys had no choice in their life. Every encounter made Virgil bristle, just wishing he could say something. Scott obviously felt him tense, for his hand tightened in both support and a warning.

"Ah, Scott."

"Mr Rogers." Scott had a tight smile on his face as he dipped his head at the man. Virgil knew his brother's body language though. He was perfectly straight and upright, his chin lifted defiantly. This was a man who was used to having his orders followed in life or death situations. He wasn't going to be spoken down to by some businessman who thought he spent his life sitting by a pool doing nothing.

"John."

"Virgil."

"Excuse me?"

Virgil was hard pushed not to roll his eyes when the man looked at him as if he had said something outrageous.

"I'm Virgil. John isn't here. He's… well, blond for one thing, and not here for another."

"Virg!" Scott's hiss was barely audible as he tried not to move his lips but Virgil didn't back down. Mr Rogers only ever seemed to remember Scott's name and Virgil had already spent most of the night answering the "and which brother are you?" question. Virgil shot his brother a withering glance, knowing by the look on Scott's face he was trying not to laugh.

"I see." Mr Rogers watched Virgil coolly for a moment, but the artist simply stared back impassively. The look on Virgil's face was bordering on mockery by the time Scott finally stepped forward, drawing the man's attention back to him.

"How are you enjoying the evening so far, Sir?"

"Your father always did know how to throw a good party. But look at the appearance of the staff. Working class people, all of them."

"All the employees here are more than qualified, Sir."

Now it was Virgil's turn to smirk as Scott was barely able to conceal the anger in his voice.

"I'm sure they are, Scott. I'm sure they are." No one could deny the patronising tone in Mr Rogers' voice and Scott bristled. Virgil was just wondering whether he would actually need to restrain his brother when a commotion over by the door made him turn. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Scott doing the same thing. Two security guards had hold of the arms of a young man who had clearly had too much to drink and who was shouting abuse at Martin. Judging by the tux the offender was wearing, he was one of the guests. The words coming out of his mouth simply confirmed that as he informed Martin that he should be given anything he wantedsimply because of who he was. Virgil made to take a step forward at seeing how the guards were struggling to hold him, but he never got the chance.

Scott had moved forward even before Virgil had finished processing what he was seeing. The younger brother didn't even attempt to take another step, knowing Scott would have it under control. Sure enough, just as the young man broke free from security and sprang forward, Scott reached him. The man didn't even make it a step before Scott had caught hold of his wrist and casually twisted it up behind his back, taking hold of the man's shoulder in order to pull him in, before escorting him back towards the door.

"He shouldn't have done that, that young man was a guest."

"Who was abusing our staff. I'm not sure what kind of company you run, Sir, but we don't let anyone talk to our staff like that." Without so much as glancing at him, Virgil moved forward himself.

"You okay?" Reaching the bar, he frowned in concern at Martin.

The bartender nodded. "He just took me by surprise, that's all."

Virgil grimaced in sympathy before turning to see what was happening with the others. Scott had got the man back to security, but hadn't yet let go of him. Virgil smiled at seeing how the drunk was struggling furiously against his brother's hold, yet Scott was just having a casual conversation with security, almost not seeming to notice. One of the guards stepped out of the way of the door and Virgil suddenly understood what was going on.

"Oh no he doesn't."

Ignoring Martin's confused look, Virgil hurried over.

"They can take it from here now, Scott. Can't you?" Addressing the surprised-looking security men, Virgil grinned as he began to pry Scott away from the drunk, almost forcing the abusive man into the guards' hands. They didn't make the same mistake twice but swiftly grabbed hold of him. There was no chance that he would be getting away from them again. Scott took a step after them as they began pulling him out of the door, but Virgil rested his hand on Scott's arm.

"You have somewhere else to be," the younger brother murmured gently and Scott flushed.

"I just want to make sure they get him out of the building."

"And undermine their belief in their own performance by making them feel like they are being supervised? Not a smart move, Scotty. Now come on." Virgil made to tug Scott back in the direction they had originally been heading in, only to find his brother staring at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"Where did that come from? I knew you were an artist and an engineer, didn't realise you were a businessman as well."

Virgil rolled his eyes with a grin, forcing his brother to walk with him this time.

"I had to sit through those speeches remember? John isn't the only one who can simply absorb information. I might not do it as well as him, but I can still do it."

"So it filters out the younger you guys get," Scott murmured thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at his lips. Virgil grinned, knowing the thoughts running through his brother's mind.

"Explains Alan, doesn't it?"

Scott laughed, finally falling into step with his younger brother. Virgil, however, wasn't done yet.

"So it gave you the physique to stand in the firing line for us and let the rest of us make up for the lack of brain power then?"

"Hey!" Scott gave Virgil a mock shove, the artist immediately retaliating as they made their way through to the main room. Mr Rogers hurried after them and although he completely ignored Virgil, he looked as if he wanted to engage Scott in conversation again.

"Uh oh," Virgil's mutter was the only warning that Scott got, but he tensed again.

"If you'll excuse me, Sir, I have somewhere to be." Scott was moving before Mr Rogers could even open his mouth.

Mr Rogers blinked at the coolness in Scott's voice and Virgil yet again found that he was fighting back the urge to burst out laughing. If he had known that the stuck-up businessman would be what was needed in order to get Scott to go in without a fight, he would have invited the man out to the bar the second he realised where Scott had taken refuge. Scott took the lead this time, striding through the double doors with his head held high. The oldest brother didn't seem to notice that more than one person stopped their conversation at his entrance, but Virgil had to hold back his grin. Scott had certainly made it clear to Rogers he had no desire to continue their previous conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mr Rogers turn red with outrage, and not wanting to be left alone with the man, Virgil hurried after his brother.

"What a jerk." Sitting back down at the table they had been on earlier in the evening, Scott slumped, making as if to loosen his tie. Virgil grimaced as he held out a hand to stop him.

"Not yet, man," he said gently and Scott blew out a long breath even as he dropped his hand again. He looked almost wistfully around the table and Virgil was glad that the wine from the meal had been cleared away. He just wanted things to get moving now, for he wasn't sure he could keep Scott here if anything else happened. It wasn't so much what they were doing that was the issue, it was the fact that everyone else just saw them as the playboy sons of Jeff Tracy, wasting time sitting around doing nothing. They couldn't exactly tell them that just twelve hours before they had been pulling trapped miners free from a collapsed cave in Texas.

"Ladies and gentleman, if you could all take your seats? It is time for the main event of the evening, the one I'm sure you ladies have been saving up for."

Virgil saw Scott stiffen out of the corner of his eye and turned towards the announcer. Before he could do anything in order to make sure Scott didn't bolt, one of the organisers appeared next to them and spoke quietly in Scott's ear. Scott sighed but nodded, looking resigned as he stood up and followed the man off to one side. Virgil attempted to smile reassuringly at him, but knew it didn't quite match the mirth dancing in his eyes. Scott could defy death multiple times a day if he had to, yet Virgil didn't think he had ever seen him look as nervous as he did now. All across the room, the staff were collecting people and Virgil found himself settling back in his seat. Someone appeared at his elbow, handing him a drink before slipping into the seat next to him.

"This one taken?"

Virgil glanced up at the source of the voice, smiling softly.

"All yours."

"Naomi."

"Virgil."

"You're… you're Jeff Tracy's son, aren't you?"

"And you are Ronald Cackson's daughter."

Naomi grinned and Virgil felt himself relaxing. All night he had been dealing with men and women his father's age, talking business. One look at Naomi's face and Virgil knew she had been going through the same thing. The fact that she had to be around his age and looked absolutely stunning in a short black dress made Virgil decide maybe this night wouldn't be such a waste after all.

"So you're not one of the lucky guys then?" Naomi motioned towards where someone had come out with a microphone and begun trying to set it up on a stage. Many an event had been hosted in this room, and Virgil wondered just how many of them he had attended over the years. He was sure it was more than his fair share, something he was making a mental note to complain to his father about.

"My brother is," Virgil murmured, still grinning at how put-out Scott had been about the whole thing.

"Same."

"Older or younger?" Virgil recalled something about the Cacksons having two children, but he couldn't remember the details. He was sure that John would have been able to spout out their whole family history, but as he had mentioned to numerous people throughout the evening, John wasn't there, Virgil was.

"Neither."

Virgil frowned for a moment as Naomi raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for everything to slot into place.

"Oh. Twins?"

"Yep. Although Nathan always claims he is the older one. Our parents have never said, I think they thought telling us would cause more problems than it was worth. How about you? Older or younger being sold off tonight?"

"Older." Virgil was no longer able to hide his grin and Naomi seemed to realise just how funny he was finding the situation.

"Not a fan of this sort of thing?"

The pair continued talking as the auction was started. Virgil had no interest in watching everyone try and outbid themselves over people he didn't know. He wasn't sure whether he had ever met Naomi before despite it turning out that they had been to a lot of the same business functions over the years, and was delighted to find that they seemed to share a lot in common. When Naomi revealed she hated being dressed up and would much rather be in a pair of old overalls tinkering with her father's cars, Virgil knew that the night hadn't been a complete waste. He knew it wasn't like anything serious could happen, not with what he did; but just having someone he could talk to about things he was genuinely interested in was enough for him for one night. If things hinted at going further…well, just because Scott's evening was being auctioned off didn't mean Virgil's was.

Neither of them paid any attention until Naomi's brother was up. She sat forward, her elbows resting on the table and her hand cupping her chin as her eyes glinted. Activity was happening around him as patrons started bidding for her brother and Virgil was vaguely aware of the price going up and up. Yet at the same time, he wasn't sure he had looked towards the stage even once.

Naomi almost looked disappointed when the bidding was over, as if she had been hoping the results would have been different.

"I was so hoping he would get some old lady. That woman is going to have her claws in him all evening."

Virgil recognised the same protectiveness in her voice as he knew was present between him and his brothers. He glanced towards where Nathan was being escorted off stage, a young woman immediately latching onto his arm.

"You heard how much she bid, it's not like she'll be after his money."

"I wouldn't be so sure." There was a dark scowl on Naomi's face as she twisted her head to see better as her twin went to join his date.

"I'm sure he can handle himself," Virgil said softly, letting his hand cover hers. Naomi started, then a gentle smile crossed her lips as she stopped looking for her brother. But before she could say anything, the presenter announced that Scott was up next. Smirking, Virgil turned his attention to the stage for the first time that evening.

Virgil had no idea what he had been expecting. Gordon had broken the record the year before, and he knew the rest of the island would be eager to hear whether Scott could top that or not. For a long while, Virgil thought he was going to do it as prices shot way past anything that had been bid before. Initially, his brother simply stood on the stage looking awkward, but as the amounts increased, he seemed to relax. Scott finally seemed to be accepting there was no way out of this and so he might as well get as much money for charity as he could. As soon as the bidding seemed to be slowing down, the pilot winked at a woman in the front row and she immediately threw herself back into the competition.

The bidding war raged for at least half an hour, almost tripling the price that Nathan's date had paid for him. He didn't quite beat Gordon's record, but Virgil could tell by the look on his brother's face that he wasn't even thinking about it. The proceeds would make a vast difference, and Virgil knew what Scott was thinking. It was nice, just once, to have someone thank them personally for what they were trying to do rather than just thanking the mysterious rescuers whose identity remained a secret. Still, Virgil couldn't help but laugh when the final bid was made and no one was able to go any higher.

Nathan might have got a stunning young woman, yet despite the money being thrown around, Scott found himself taking the arm of a woman old enough to be his grandmother. From across the room, Virgil could see that he had managed to fix a charming smile onto his face, but his eyes had widened slightly when he saw who it was that he had to entertain for the rest of the evening.

"Thank God for that."

Naomi's mutter made Virgil turn in surprise, frowning at her.

"What do you mean?"

The woman flashed him a smile and Virgil found himself smiling back before he knew what he was even smiling about.

"Nathan and I had a bet. You could say that my brother thinks rather a lot of himself. He was adamant that he was going to attract the highest bid tonight, and I could tell he was thinking that by the look on his face when he doubled everything that had gone before him. Your brother, Virgil, just trebled Nathan's price. So he now owes me fifty bucks. Thanks."

Virgil didn't have time to say anything before she leant over and kissed him on the cheek. Announcements were being made, but now the main part of the evening was over, not many people were listening. Glancing around, Virgil saw that Scott seemed to be chatting pleasantly to his date.

"Do you fancy going to get a drink somewhere?" Feeling brave and determined that this night was going to be for him as well as for his brother, Virgil decided to take the plunge. Naomi looked startled but then smiled.

"Sure. Let me just go and grab my coat and tell Father where I'm going. Meet you at the bar in a few?"

Virgil just nodded, watching her slip away and wondering if anyone was going to believe this. Despite not particularly wanting to have to report in to his Field Commander when they were strictly off duty, Virgil knew that he couldn't just leave without telling Scott he was going. Standing up, he navigated his way through the tables until he could reach his brother. Scott saw him coming and to Virgil's astonishment, grinned at him. It was a genuine smile as well.

"Hey. Virg, meet Mrs Harris. Mrs Harris, my younger brother, Virgil."

"He looks to be just as much of a charmer as you, dear."

Virgil found himself blushing slightly. The boys had all been used to such comments when they were growing up, their grandmother's friends loving to fuss over them all. Gordon and Alan always had it worse, the latter in particular as Gordon always managed to escape or cause enough trouble that they stopped thinking him cute. It had always annoyed Virgil back then, but he found himself smiling this time.

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am. That was quite a sum you placed on my brother."

"Well, it's been a few years since I've had a nice young man to myself all evening."

Scott choked halfway through taking a sip of water, spluttering and going bright red in a way Virgil didn't think he had ever seen before.

"Excuse me?!"

Mrs Harris winked at Virgil, and the younger brother could suddenly see why Scott was so relaxed. He didn't have to worry about how much his "date" expected of him from the evening, nor did he have to worry about having someone use it against him to get more money from him in the future. Instead, he could just relax.

"Scott? I'm heading out. Naomi and I are going to get a drink somewhere."

"Who?"

"Cackson's daughter. Her brother, Nathan, was the one auctioned off before you. No, you can't make me change my mind, no I'm not staying here and yes I'll stay in touch if I'm not coming back to the apartment tonight."

"Going that well is it?"

Virgil rolled his eyes at his brother's smirk but refrained from answering. He knew the look on his face would tell Scott everything he needed to know, and it had been a while since either of them had been on leave. Scott nodded softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping his brother a few notes.

"Have one on me. And have fun. Be careful."

"You too." Virgil gave a pointed nod to the woman at Scott's side and her face lit up, clearly glad that they were playing along with her. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"You'd be surprised, young man. With my experience, there is a lot we can do you wouldn't even dream of."

"Right…" Taking that as his cue to leave, Virgil chuckled to himself as he moved across the room. He only wished he had taken a picture of Scott's face as his brother had yet again gone bright red.

Making his way out of the room, Virgil frowned when he realised that Naomi was nowhere to be seen. He wondered whether perhaps she'd had no intention of coming and was just using asking her father as a reason to go without having to make another excuse. But before his thoughts could take him any further, the door opened and she slipped out, looking slightly breathless.

"Sorry. Father wanted to know the usual: who, what, where, why…"

"Why?"

"You aren't the only family here that people will be trying to get money off. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going with someone less fortunate." It was only the tone of her voice that stopped Virgil from saying anything, knowing that she clearly disapproved of her father's attitude as much as he did. It suddenly made the artist feel thankful that their father had never been like that. Virgil couldn't help but wonder whether things would have been different if their mother had lived. Would the wealth have gone to their heads? From what he knew about her, Virgil had a feeling his mother would have made sure they kept their feet firmly on the ground.

"Virgil? You okay?" Realising that he had been staring into space, Virgil grinned and held out his hand, taking her jacket from her. Naomi giggled as he helped her into it and Virgil decided she was even prettier when she blushed. Naomi slipped her arm through his as they headed towards the door, but a sudden thought struck Virgil.

"Here, come this way." Pulling her in the opposite direction, Virgil made to make his way around the back of the bar. Martin just rolled his eyes as Virgil grinned at him, and he knew that Martin wouldn't tell anyone.

"Where are we going?"

"Unless you want to be hounded by the press and be all over the front pages as the newest couple by tomorrow morning, I suggest we take the back way." Grateful that he knew his way around the building so well, Virgil pushed at a panel on the wall and it swung open. Not a hidden door as such, just a way for the staff to come and go without it being obvious there was a door there. Naomi smiled as Virgil held it open for her.

"Why thank you, kind sir."

"After you, my lady." Feeling more relaxed than he had done for a long time, Virgil gestured for her to go first. But no sooner had Naomi taken a step forward when an almighty bang sounded from the main doors and they swung open. After years in International Rescue, Virgil knew to trust his instincts and didn't hesitate as he grabbed Naomi and dragged her down to the floor.

Martin was out of his reach and Virgil grimaced as he heard the man call out, "This is a private function, you can't be in here. Leave before I call security."

Keeping low, Virgil reached out to try and catch Martin's leg as the man rounded the bar, but he couldn't reach. All he could do was stay low as he heard a thud and a moan of pain. His heart was pounding hard as he slowly peered over the top of the bar, swearing when he saw eight heavily armed men throwing open the doors. One had hold of Martin and Virgil could only watch as they practically threw him over the bar. He crashed down onto the floor and didn't get up again. Virgil, however, found his attention drawn by the men moving into the main room.

The final thing Virgil saw was one of them aiming his gun at the ceiling, firing and beginning to yell as the others shut the doors. Virgil was up and running almost before it was safe to do so, but he was still too late. He simply slammed into the doors, and no matter how much he shoved at them, it was clear they had been barricaded from within.

"No!" Naomi's scream made him jump as she ran up next to him, slamming her hand against the door. Virgil swiftly caught her around the waist and pulled her away.

"Sh, shh, they'll hear you. It will be alright…"

"My brother is in there!"

Naomi didn't seem to notice as Virgil dragged her away from the doors and pushed her onto a bar stool. Only when he knew he no longer had to take her weight or risk her collapsing did he sigh heavily and turn to look at the firmly shut doors.

"So is mine," he muttered, his heart feeling like it had just plummeted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all of the lovely comments, put such a smile on my face. Slight overlap on times this time, so jump back half an hour or so.**

As the Field Commander of International Rescue, nerves were not an emotion Scott could often afford to have. But having to go up onto that stage and simply stand there and listen to women trying to outbid themselves to get his company for the evening changed his mind on that. He honestly thought he was about to throw up and found a new respect for Virgil having to perform on a regular basis in front of people like this. The nerves simply grew and grew as the bidding continued, the look of the women throwing their money at him doing nothing to stop the churning in Scott's stomach. They all looked fake, and he couldn't help but wonder how much they spent on their looks each day. That amount of money could probably buy International Rescue a new machine. But he knew that it was for a good cause and so had done all he could to raise as much as possible.

His absolute dread of who he was going to be "sold" to disappeared as an elderly voice cut through the younger ones. Scott's head jerked up from where he had been contemplating whether it was possible to sink through the floor and he frowned in confusion. The rest of the room fell silent and Scott barely even noticed as the steward took his arm and helped him down from the stage, nudging him over towards the old lady. Scott sat down hesitantly next to her, wondering what he was supposed to do next. She wrote out a cheque and handed it to the steward, who disappeared without a word.

"Vultures, the lot of them," she muttered, knocking back a whisky in one gulp.

Scott stared at her. "I'm sorry, I don't…"

"Regina Harris. Only call me Mrs H – hate Regina and Harris always suited my late husband more than me."

In that one sentence, Scott found himself relaxing. She seemed down to earth and realistic, and already Scott felt like he wouldn't need to spend the whole evening wondering if he was going to let something slip about what he did on a daily basis.

"So… tell me about the Air Force."

Halfway through taking a mouthful of his own drink, Scott coughed, spluttering as he stared up at her. It wasn't exactly a secret what he had done before supposedly moving to the island to live off his father's money, but not many of Scott's dates in the past had used that to open the evening.

"Well, you can't have been half as good as I heard you were if that is the reaction I get with one question. I thought they trained you boys to withstand interrogation?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I…"

"Mrs H, please. Ma'am makes me feel old."

Scott stared, biting his lip. She looked at him, almost daring him to say something about the fact that she was old, but Scott just shrugged and took another sip of his drink, using the glass to hide his smile.

"Fine, fine, I'll give you a clue. You know my husband."

"Mr Harris?"

"Good grief, boy, they told me you were smart."

Scott blinked, his mind racing for that name in connection with his military past. Mrs H just stared at him, clearly not prepared to give him any more help than that.

Scott finally grinned. "Commander Harris! Of course, he gave me my first official flight. Never forgot that day."

"Neither did he. Apparently you could perform manoeuvres in a plane that shouldn't be possible. You earned your command that day, Scott."

Scott flushed, a feeling of pride settling in the pit of his stomach. People praised the faceless rescuers that flew onto the scene every day, but it had been a long time since he had heard his own name connected with praise.

"I heard he had passed. I'm sorry, he was a good man."

"Still is a good man, thank you very much. He knew his time had come; that's what happens when you get old." She looked sad, and Scott found himself with the urge to suddenly cheer her up again.

"I thought you said you weren't old?"

A cheeky grin spread over his face as Mrs H turned to look at him. The sadness vanished as the old lady laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm.

"They were right when they said you were good."

Scott chuckled to himself as she ordered another whisky, settling herself comfortably back in the chair.

"So you're probably wondering why I saved you from those vultures?"

"You mean it wasn't because of my charming good looks?" Scott wasn't sure when he had last felt this relaxed, and judging by the look on her face, Mrs H was not about to stop him from saying a few things tongue-in-cheek. He just knew that he had to make sure he didn't relax_ too_ much.

"Don't flatter yourself, darling. They only wanted your money."

"But they would have had to spend some to get it, that doesn't make any sense. So I might have bought them a drink, but they wouldn't have got anything else out of me."

"And how much do you think they would demand off your father when they are pregnant?"

Scott choked again, going bright red.

"I wouldn't. I…"

"I'm not implying you would, boy. They just know how to get what they want, and a spiked drink makes things a lot easier."

Mrs H raised her voice at her last sentence, gesturing to someone behind Scott. He turned to see a woman his age approaching, opening her purse as she did so. He knew instantly she was about to offer Mrs H money to take him off her hands, but when she heard what the old lady was saying, she immediately became flustered and hurried away. Scott let a low whistle slide through his teeth.

"That's scary."

"High society can throw far more danger at you than the Air Force can, Mr Tracy. Now, as we've decided I'm not trying to get into your pants, shall we find a strong drink and a mutual topic for conversation?"

Scott agreed. Mainly because he knew that he had gone red again and if he had any chance of surviving the evening with Mrs H, he was going to need a drink.

As it happened, he relaxed quickly into her company. Virgil's face was a classic when he was introduced to the woman, but Scott was glad that his brother had just come to say goodbye. If he was honest, he had forgotten about Virgil having to wait for him as he had begun to enjoy the evening. He was glad to know that his brother was going to get as much of a break from everything as he was. Resisting the urge to mention spiked drinks and pregnancies, Scott waved his brother off and then had to spend the next few minutes being compared to him listening to Mrs H quiz him about why he wasn't more like Virgil.

It took no time at all until Scott completely forgot why they were even there. He had been dreading the evening because of the fear of who he would end up with, but realising that she had no interest in him as Jeff Tracy's son, just as Scott, relieved those fears. Although Scott couldn't help feeling that Mrs H knew more than she was letting on. As it naturally would, the conversation turned to what he was doing now that he had left the Air Force, and Scott didn't think he had ever felt as ashamed as he did in that moment when he had to keep up the pretence that he worked for his father and spent most of his time on a tropical island. He thought she would have been disappointed in him, but the old lady just pursed her lips and changed the topic.

If he ever looked back on that evening, Scott would have said he should have seen it coming. He was a Tracy. Nothing went this smoothly for any length of time when there was a Tracy involved.

The steward had just climbed back up onto the stage, tapping the microphone in a dramatic manner as he tried to get people's attention. Scott glanced around the room, watching as most people seemed to be sitting in small groups, talking. He was sure they were talking business - it was the only thing they had in common. Nathan seemed to be lip-locked with his date in a way that made Scott shudder, thinking back on what Mrs H had said before. He wondered if the young man knew what she was after and didn't care, or was just that naïve.

Just as everyone turned towards the stage, Scott found himself looking away. He wasn't sure what it was, but something made him look towards the doors. For a split second, he felt a shock of panic run through his body and he frowned. Surely he had nothing to be panicked about; the worst part of the evening was over. But before another thought could register itself in his head, the doors burst open, gunfire raining into the room.

Scott didn't think, he just reacted.

In one movement, he had left his chair, pulling Mrs H down to the ground and sheltering her under the table. She didn't question him, her eyes wide as he moved. Scott tried to smile reassuringly before he shot towards the stage, leaping up in one jump. The steward had almost frozen where he was, and despite the fact the guns were firing at the ceiling, Scott had a feeling he wouldn't last long if he stayed there. He hated it when other people judged him on his money, but Scott knew that was what he was doing now. The steward was just a member of staff. Compared to everyone else in the room, he was a no one. Scott knew enough to know what happened to those with no value.

The gunmen were still trying to block the door by the time Scott shoved the stunned man down under the table with Mrs H.

"Stay down," he hissed, straightening up cautiously. Screams rang out through the room, stopping at the same time as the guns. The silence that followed was almost as deafening as the shots before. Scott found himself glancing around, his mind already beginning to process potential escape routes, working out who needed to move first. He looked towards Nathan, hoping to find an ally in the young man. Instead, he found the man practically crouching behind his date, his face one of sheer terror. Scott rolled his eyes and moved towards the wall, wanting somewhere private so that he could get in touch with John.

"Everyone freeze!"

Scott stilled, but let his hand drift towards his watch again. A high scream made him stop as one of the gunmen grabbed the nearest woman. She almost fell as she was moved forward, tripping on her high heels and then sinking into a dead faint as the gunman pointed his weapon at her. Scott cursed, knowing that he couldn't get in contact now, not when a pin would be heard dropping in the silence that had followed. Deciding to just play it innocently, Scott glanced towards the doors and found himself sighing in relief. There was no sign of Virgil. Considering these men must have planned this carefullyto get through his father's security, Scott was fully aware that they must have known who was in this room. Automatically, he found himself glancing towards the door as if hoping that would provide him with the answers of how they had managed to get in to start with. If they had run into Virgil and his girl, they both would have been brought back in. If they knew who was in the room, the chances were that they wanted money from hostages, and Scott let that thought reassure him, hoping it meant his brother was unhurt.

Making sure no one was looking towards him, Scott moved back towards his table. A hand immediately grabbed his and he tried to smile at Mrs H's worried expression, automatically slipping back into his Field Commander role. She tried tugging him down, but Scott shook his head. He needed to be seen, he needed them to focus on him so that he could handle the situation.

"What do you want?" Scott let the commanding note that his brothers were so used to slip into his voice as he spoke. He knew that he had to keep everything calm, but given the situation, he would have preferred to be on his own with the gunmen. The businesspeople in here all thought they were better than the next person. All would try and offer money, all would think they had the best solution and all would get in the way of the plan Scott was sure he was about to come up with.

Three of the five gunmen turned to face him and Scott instantly lifted his hands to show that he was unarmed and of absolutely no threat to them whatsoever.

"Name." The order was barked out rudely and despite trying to find something noticeable about it, Scott sighed at the American twang. It didn't sound southern, it was almost similar to his own but there was nothing distinctive that would give him a clue as to his identity.

"Scott Tracy."

"Tracy… Tracy… The old man didn't make it here tonight then?"

Scott shook his head, secretly storing away that piece of information for later. If they thought Jeff Tracy was there, it was possible that they were hoping all the leaders of the businesses were. Subtly trying to glance around to see how others were reacting, Scott took a small step forward.

"You didn't answer my question. What do you want? Whatever it is, I'm sure that we can get it."

Scott managed to catch Nathan's eye. Trying to tell the man without words that he needed help was more of a challenge. He had never considered how well he and his brothers worked together, but right now he would have done anything to have one of them in the room with him, able to help him plan something with nothing more than a few looks. Nathan did seem to realise that Scott wanted help, but he just shook his head, backing up behind his father.

"I said, don't move!"

The man who had been addressing Scott spun around wildly and Scott grimaced at the casual way the man moved his gun. He either was very confident and skilled… or was making this up as he was going along. Scott had a feeling it was the latter, despite having needed to get past security. That made him dangerous – he would be more prone to panic if he didn't know precisely what he was doing.

Nathan ducked down lower, but Scott felt a flicker of hope reignite in his chest as another man stepped forward, moving in front of the cowering Nathan. Scott didn't recognise him, but he did recognise the posture and the tension running through the man. Business hadn't always been his calling, that much was obvious. Whoever this was, he had military training.

Unfortunately, the attacker also seemed to see the posture and took it as a threat, his gun rising again.

"Stop it!" Scott jumped over the table, making to race across the room. But he had been so focused on that one man he hadn't been paying attention to where the others were. One had begun to double back, and as Scott ran forward, he sank the butt of his gun into the pilot's stomach. Most of the force Scott brought on himself through his momentum, and sank to his knees with a gasp, eyes watering.

"No heroics. From any of you."

A click from behind his head kept Scott down on the floor, knowing he had a gun pointing at him. If they were out in the field, he could have disarmed the man with a simple manoeuvre, but here, he was supposed to be the playboy son of Jeff Tracy. Scott had a feeling that Mrs H was the only one in the room who was even aware of his military past, let alone anything else. Outnumbered like this, with so many innocents in the room, Scott knew he would lose a fight. He had to pretend he was just as helpless as they were.

"If you all just sit down, shut up and do as you are told, you'll get out of this alive."

"What do you want?" It was a timid voice from somewhere in the far corner of the room this time.

"What do you think? You are each going to offer me everything you have. The top five get to walk out of this room. The rest of you, we'll find another use for."

Scott swallowed as the man seemed to look directly at him. He knew that he wouldn't make those top five; he didn't have enough access to his father's funds to even guess at what he could offer. Not to mention most of Tracy Industries' money was tied up in International Rescue. In a way, he was glad - it meant he could look after the others if he didn't leave. But that look hadn't been a good one, and Scott knew that it was not going to bode well for him.

"What makes you think you can get away with it?" Scott grimaced as the man behind him grabbed his arm, yanking him upright and pushing him back towards his own table. Scott let it happen, but was snarling with anger as he was pushed down in the seat, the gesture of the gun telling him to stay put.

"Why shouldn't I? It's amazing what the world will do for its high and mighty."

Mrs H's hand found Scott's again and he gripped it, trying to tell her without words that they were going to get out of this. Across the room, he managed to catch the eye of the man who had defended Nathan, also being pushed back into a seat and told to stay there. He grimaced at Scott from across the room and made a small signal with his hand that Scott recognised. The message wasn't what caused Scott to grin, it was the fact someone knew he had enough military experience to recognise it.

"All of you just sit there, shut up and we can get this show on the road. You wanted an auction, now here's the biggest event of the evening.

"It's time to bid for your lives."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, really appreciate it!**

It didn't take Virgil long to realise that he was not going to be able to get the doors open. It took him even less time than that to realise it was a stupid idea to even carry on trying. What was he going to do when he got in there? There were at least five of them - armed - and just him. But Scott would be able to help him… providing his big brother was able to get across to him and not get shot first.

Running his fingers through his hair, Virgil blew out a long breath. He should have known something would go wrong. They were Tracys, something always did go wrong. Having no idea that he was echoing his big brother's thoughts, Virgil could have kicked himself when he realised what an idiot he was being. Glancing over at the bar, he grimaced to see Naomi clinging onto it. He wasn't sure if it was the shock of what had just happened or whether it was her high-heeled shoes that were causing her to have such a tight grip. She didn't seem to notice that he was watching her, but instead reached behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of vodka and took a swig.

"Great…" Virgil muttered to himself, leaving the doors and walking back towards her. She had initially seemed as anxious as him to get back into the room, but as soon as they had heard warning shots being fired, she just seemed to crumble.

"Don't think you want that," Virgil murmured gently, pulling the bottle from her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist. Wondering what to do, Virgil glanced around. There was a selection of chairs over at the far side of the bar, and Virgil decided that would be good enough. The area wasn't visible from either the main door or the function room door, so hopefully she would just sit there and let him get on with what he was good at – finding ways out of situations. As soon as Naomi was deposited on a chair and told to stay put, Virgil moved as far away from her as he could get. He ended up next to a row of windows on the other side of the bar and realised that he could go no further.

Lifting his arm, Virgil touched a button on his watch.

"John?"

He had to wait a few seconds for the response and found that he was glancing around anxiously. It never normally took John this long… But then again, Virgil knew he wouldn't have been listening for a call from his immediate younger brother tonight.

"Virg? What's up? You lost Scotty yet?"

"Funny you should mention that…" Virgil muttered, glancing across at Naomi again. She had taken to staring at the function room door, almost as if her willpower alone was going to get her family out. Satisfied that at least it kept her occupied, Virgil focused his attention on his brother instead.

"What do you mean? You know Dad will kill you both if Scott finds a way of worming his way out of it. That was why you had to go as well."

"Not quite that simple, John." Keeping his voice low, Virgil quickly outlined to his brother what seemed to be going on. John swore, then reflected the thought that both of his brothers had already had about things never going right for them. When Virgil had finished telling John what he knew – which was alarmingly very little, considering their brother was locked in the room with these madmen – there was silence for a long moment.

"John?"

"I'll tell Dad, shall I? Virg, can you get yourself and the girl out? You can help more if you can liaise with the police."

Despite not wanting to leave Scott, Virgil had to admit the sense in John's words. Craning his head around, he peered out of the windows to try and see down to the floors below. He was lucky. They were on the top floor and this floor overhung the lower ones. By getting at the right angle, Virgil could see the whole way down the side of the building. The lower floors seemed to be in darkness; the suites empty as their guests were behind the locked doors behind him. He knew there was a staff exit – the door he had been planning to take Naomi out led to it – but by awkwardly twisting, he could see the faint outline of people by the doors. He couldn't see the main entrance, he couldn't get the angle right. But the fact he could see people covering the staff exit meant he knew the main one would also be a no-go. He just hoped they had allowed the staff to leave first, or at least left them alone.

"No, they've got people covering the doors. John, what do I do?" He didn't yet know how they were able to get away with just lurking around without anyone noticing. But it was a dark night and the light drizzle that had almost soaked them on their journey over here – something that felt like hours ago – was keeping people off the streets.

"Just stay hidden, make sure they don't see you. I'll contact Dad and the police, maybe even the army, considering who is in that room. Don't worry, kid, they'll be okay."

John disconnected and Virgil found he wanted his brother's voice back. He simply stood there for a second, his mind trying to process everything they had just talked about.

"Sorry, Johnny, I never stay hidden."

Moving back towards Naomi, Virgil ignored her as he once again tried the door. It came as no surprise when he couldn't get it to open, and sighing in frustration, he shivered. Not wanting to be cold on top of everything else, he turned up his collar, only to pause as he did so. As a crazy thought made itself known to him, Virgil slowly smiled, turning on the spot as he did so and letting his eyes scan the ceiling

John could report what he knew, but that was based entirely on what Virgil knew. Considering they couldn't get through the door, that limitedknowledge was not a lot of help to anyone. Unless, Virgil couldn't help but muse, he could find a way in.

He had to walk the entire length of the bar twice until he finally found what he was looking for. Cursing under his breath for how things could be made to look so flawless, Virgil swiftly grabbed a stool from next to Naomi and dragged it into place. Balancing precariously on top of it, he could still only just reach the vent above his head. But the closer he got to it the more he realised it was precisely what he thought it was. There was an air conditioning vent that ran the whole way through the building, allowing temperatures to be kept pleasant considering the importance of the people staying here. It was state of the art, another reason why Virgil had struggled finding the flap. But with any luck, the next vent along should be the one inside the room.

Virgil had to stand on tiptoes on top of the stool in order to be able to fumble with the screws holding it in place. He didn't think he was going to be able to get it off and feared his whole plan would be ruined before it had even begun, but then a screw narrowly avoided his head as it fell out. The weight of the flap dropping into his hands without warning caused Virgil to almost overbalance, but he finally managed to pull it off completely and lower it to the floor.

One glance at Naomi showed that she still wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing. Hooking his hands around the hole in the ceiling, Virgil winced as the stool fell with a crash as he bounced on his toes and hauled himself up into the vent. He was just going to have to jump when it came to getting down again, but that wasn't what he was worried about right now. He had to find out what was going on in that room.

Wishing he had taken off his suit jacket, Virgil slowly began crawling through the vent. He couldn't help but smile at what his grandmother was going to say when she caught sight of the knees on his trousers after doing this. But at this moment in time, Virgil knew he had to focus on getting out of this so that he would actually get the chance to hear her scolding tones.

The first vent he came to was still over the bar. Virgil swore, changed direction and continued to crawl. He didn't think that he was ever going to get anywhere, but when a burst of light suddenly illuminated the next vent, Virgil realised that he could hear voices. Holding his breath, he slid forward until he was resting on his stomach before tentatively peering through the vent. His view was somewhat limited, but he knew without a doubt that he was now seeing what was going on. By awkwardly shifting around, he managed to work out that the gunmen were scattered around the room at strategic points and all the guests were sitting down in one place or another. Two of the gunmen seemed to be standing directly behind guests, one of whom seemed to be a well-built man, glaring threateningly and in such a way that Virgil knew he was not cowed by the fact there was a gun pointing at his head.

Then, as Virgil twisted again, he found that he was able to get a better look at the second man under guard. He made to groan out loud, then clapped a hand over his mouth to make sure the sound didn't give away that he was there. In a way, he guessed that he should have known: it wasn't as if his brother ever made anything simple.

But having Scott with a gun trained directly on him was not going to make any rescue attempt easier.

TBTB

Scott had known all along that it was a bad idea. But when the other man – Scott had decided that he seemed to have been with the army – had signalled across the room that he was going to try and make a break for it, Scott knew that he couldn't let him do it alone. The man was more likely to get himself killed than make it out of the door, so the pilot decided he could at least double his chances by helping.

They had only got as far as making it out of their seats before it had gone wrong. The intruders were more alert than Scott had given them credit for and within seconds, both men were forced back down again with guards taking up position behind them. Scott had caught Mrs H's worried look and tried to smile reassuringly at her. The old woman, however, had just muttered something under her breath about being reckless and gone back to holding his hand as if he hadn't done anything.

Scott knew it would be suicide to try it again. The leader had started people bidding. Five businessmen had been selected from the tables and escorted up to the stage. They had been shouting out how much they could give the intruders in return for their safety, and it was the simple process of the one who got the highest number going through to the next round while the others were escorted shaking back to their tables. Scott knew that it was going to take a considerable amount of time to get through everyone; these people were desperate for as much money as they could get. One of the terrorists had set up a small laptop at one of the back tables, tapping away as people yelled. Scott had a feeling he knew what he was doing. If they could get in without an issue, the chances were that they had inside information on the people in the room. He was no doubt checking people could back their words up with the funds.

If he was honest, Scott was no longer paying attention to the proceedings on the stage. He was too busy trying to reach his watch and find a way of contacting John without letting anyone know what he was doing. He didn't just want to send the emergency signal because that tended to result in the 'birds being launched. Not only would Virgil kill him for giving the signal for someone else to fly his craft, but it would also lead to complications. After all, how would they explain how International Rescue knew to fly onto the scene? He needed John to know what was happening so it could be handled with care, or the situation could be made that much worse.

A soft clunking noise drew Scott's attention from his watch back into the room. One quick glance around revealed nothing that could be the source of the sound. Yet it continued. Glancing at Mrs H, Scott could see that she was also aware of it, a small frown on her face as she caught his eye. Scott shrugged, trying to tell her that he didn't know what it was either. The man keeping an eye on him jabbed his gun into the back of Scott's neck, telling him without words to sit still. Twisting in his seat to glare at him, Scott blinked. He was sure that as he had turned, there had been a flicker of movement just at the edge of his vision. Not from anywhere in the room, however, but from above it. Something had blocked out the light momentarily as it had moved, and Scott found himself glancing straight towards the vent in the ceiling.. The second he looked up, the small movement could be seen again before the clunking noise resumed.

To say that Scott was astonished was an understatement. Someone had somehow got away, and was now using the vents in order to move in between the room. Eyes scanning the area around him, Scott tried to work out who had been lucky enough to slip out in the chaos. But despite everyone having moved seats, there was no one he could pick out as not being present - apart from…

Scott groaned, only just biting his lip in time to hold it back. Virgil had left just before this had kicked off. Scott had been hoping that his brother had got out of the building, but now he wasn't so sure. After all, these men still had to get upstairs, surely they would have passed him? It wasn't as if they were just going to walk past two potential witnesses in the stairwell and let them go. But Scott was sure that anyone caught outside would have been brought in, especially if they knew Virgil and Naomi could add to their bidding. So if Virgil hadn't left the building (the sinking feeling in Scott's gut was telling him that much) and he hadn't been caught, then where was he? Somehow, Scott knew. Crawling through the vents in order to find out what was going on was just the sort of thing that the artist would do. Scott didn't know whether to be proud or exasperated. He settled for feeling relieved, certain that his little brother would have already made contact with the outside world and help would be on the way.

"You!"

"What?" Snapping his head back around quickly so the intruders didn't see where he had been looking, Scott only just held back a flinch at seeing the leader standing right in front of him.

"How do you fancy going next?"

"Not really a games type of man, more action," Scott said quietly, an unspoken threat in his voice. The man glared at him, and Scott simply glared back.

"You're Tracy's kid, right? Well, you can't offer us nearly as much as your old man can. Take him."

"What?" Scott knew his words were blunt, but he couldn't help it. He was confused. They knew who he was, meaning they knew his father owned this whole building just for starters. Surely they would know Jeff Tracy would pay for his eldest son?

"Let him go!"

Two hands grabbed his arms simultaneously. His guard from behind gripped his upper arm, clearly intending to drag him to his feet. At the same time, Mrs H put her hand on his other arm, trying to keep him down.

"It's okay, I'll be fine," Scott murmured reassuringly to her, allowing the men to manhandle him to his feet. He must have been tenser than he thought, for there was something in his body language that seemed to be a threat to the men. Some sort of signal must have been given that Scott didn't catch, for he was suddenly slammed down over the table. A strong hand held the back of his neck in order to keep him down while someone else pulled his hands behind his back and tied them there. Being pulled upright again, Scott almost stumbled over his own feet as the two men pulled him from the room.

To start with, Scott couldn't work out where on earth he was being taken. Only when he was pushed into a tiny room did he realise they were behind the stage. The leader upended a box and forced Scott down on it. Despite it going against his nature, Scott let himself be pushed. He didn't want them to know that he had the ability to take them both down. He had no way of protecting the people back in the room if he fought back now and with two guns still being trained on him, he wasn't sure that he could truly move that fast.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

"Does the money game my friends are playing not give you a clue, Tracy? Now, where is that damn camera…"

"Money isn't the only thing you want," Scott responded quietly. He would play the naïve playboy up until a certain point, but he also needed to genuinely know what they wanted. If he could get the information to Virgil, it might be what was needed to get them out of this. Only when they were free would Scott allow himself the pleasure of strangling his brother for putting himself in harm's way.

"What?"

"Some of the most powerful industrial leaders are in that room. You can't truly think they are just going to give you what they've got and then let you walk out of there, do you?"

"So you must do some thinking while on that island of your Daddy's then? That's good, means you'll know to shut up and speak only when I tell you to."

Scott inwardly groaned as he watched the men set up a camera. The guys were not going to let him live this down once they realised there was nothing to worry about and Scott would be able to get himself free when he had the chance.

The two men turned away, muttering quietly between themselves. Scott took their distraction as a time to try and work on the rope binding his wrists, but the knot was secure. Something about this didn't seem right though. Why was he the only one who had been dragged out? Was it just chance, that he was simply the first? But he knew the room was full of people representing their bosses and many would be in the same position as him.

So why had he been the one they had taken?

As the camera was moved into position, Scott found that he was swallowing hard. Something about this didn't seem right; there was something he was missing. But for the life of him, Scott had no idea what even as the camera was switched on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all of the support once again, especially to the reviews I can't respond directly too!**

"Are you sure?"

Jeff couldn't help but stare at the portrait of his second eldest son in incredulity. John nodded, his expression grave. That was enough for Jeff to know that he was being deadly serious about this. If he was honest, Jeff had known that all along. John would never call through something like this unless he was completely sure about all the facts. The father sighed, resting his head in his hands for a moment.

"So the whole building has been taken over and all the guests are being held hostage, including your brothers?"

"No, only Scott."

"Tell me again where Virgil is?" It was bad enough that the charity event that he hosted annually had been taken over by terrorists and the guests taken hostage. It was even worse that he had sons in the building who had been caught up in it all. But to know that Virgil, whilst in the building, as of yet hadn't been discovered… Jeff didn't know if that was a good thing because it meant Virgil was safe, or a bad thing. He knew what his son was like. Virgil wasn't going to try and keep himself safe when he thought there was a chance he could help.

"By the bar by the sounds of it. They've got downstairs covered so he can't get out, and have sealed the function room off so he can't get in there either. Sounds like he is pretty much stuck."

"Good."

"Dad?"

"John, if Virgil is stuck, it means that he can't do anything stupid. As long as he stays out of sight, then he should be okay. At least with him being out of the room he was able to let us know. I'm expecting contact any time now."

"What if they aren't after you?"

"It's my building they took over, it's my function they've interrupted…"

"Which just happens to have some of the richest people in America there, not to mention some of the most important international businessmen the world has seen. I'm not sure this is just about you, Dad. There are so many people in there who could give them what they want, whatever that is. I think it might just be a coincidence that you happen to be the host."

"They still have Scott. And you know what your brother is like, he's not going to let events just unfold without getting himself involved."

"I could try and get a message to him; he is still wearing his watch."

Jeff shook his head, his mind whirling as he tried to think about what they were supposed to do. He knew that technically, they shouldn't even know what was going on. But if he couldn't help his own sons with the technology they had at their disposal, then what was it all for?

"No, that's too dangerous. I need you to get in contact with the police. Do it under IR if you have to. Anonymous tipoff, a call intercepted… say anything you need to say to get them to take you seriously. Virgil has given us a heads-up, and I intend to make the most of it."

"F.A.B." John disconnected, no doubt trying to figure out a way they could make the police believe they were genuine without revealing that they had contacts within the building.

As John's portrait morphed back into the painting, Jeff had to resist the urge to bang his head against the wall.

Scott and Virgil going to the city was supposed to be a break!

"Dad?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Jeff tried to force a smile onto his face as Gordon sidled into the room. He knew that it hadn't worked, though, as his son suddenly frowned.

"What's happened?"

Not even asking how Gordon knew something had happened, Jeff sighed.

"Hostage situation with your brothers right in the centre of it."

Gordon let a low whistle slide through his teeth, staring in astonishment at the portraits.

"I knew Scott didn't want to go, but…"

"Gordon! This is no laughing matter."

"Who's laughing, Dad? What can I do to help?"

Jeff smiled tersely at his son, knowing that Gordon was being completely serious.

"Right now? I have no idea. Get me a coffee perhaps?"

"This once. Just no being caffeine-hyped by the time they do get in contact; you need to be able to think straight."

Shaking his head fondly at how his son could sound so light-hearted despite the situation, Jeff watched Gordon head towards the door again. But before he could leave, the monitor on Jeff's computer suddenly beeped, causing both father and son to blink. Jeff simply stared at it for a long moment, his heart pounding hard as he realised what it meant. He was receiving a video call from somewhere unknown. Considering the circumstances, he knew there was only one place it could be coming from.

It seemed he was about to officially find out what was happening with his sons.

"Nothing will happen unless you connect, Dad." Gordon's voice was soft, making Jeff realise that he had moved back across the room. As the father continued to simply stare at the machine, the son reached over, flicking a button and connecting. As soon as he did so, Jeff knew that he wasn't imagining the growl of anger coming from the back of Gordon's throat as the scene was revealed. In a way, it made their reactions more realistic, but Jeff found he didn't particularly care about that right now.

He was more preoccupied by the fact that he was looking at his oldest son. Scott's hands were clearly tied and while Jeff couldn't work out what it was his son was sitting on, he knew that it wasn't a chair.

"What's going on?" Jeff demanded angrily, knowing that he wasn't supposed to have had any forewarning about what to expect. Scott looked straight at the camera, and Jeff managed to catch his eye. He didn't know who else was there so couldn't risk anything, but by holding Scott's gaze pointedly, he managed to convey that they had already known. Scott seemed to sag in relief, but Jeff knew why. If they knew, it meant Virgil had managed to get a message out to them. And if his little brother had managed that, it meant he was safe.

"Jeff Tracy."

"Who are you? What do you want? What are you doing with my son? Let him go!" Hoping that he was playing his part the way they would expect, Jeff carefully hid one hand behind his back, prodding Gordon in the leg to get his son's attention and then silently gesturing for him to relay this through to John. They didn't need to know a location, they already had that. But if they could work out what kind of equipment was being used, it might give them a clue as to who these people were.

"I will let him go. If you can offer enough for him."

"How much do you want?"

"Oh no, Mr Tracy, that isn't the game. Your son can't offer us much, not enough to beat the other contestants."

"Contestants?"

"He's making people practically bid for their freedom," Scott muttered, and a hand entered the camera shot in order to cuff him over the head. Scott barely even moved, but Jeff wanted to groan at the way his son's eyes had lit up. It meant Scott had an idea, and Jeff had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"So, Tracy… What is your opening bid to keep your son alive?"

Scott growled as the same hand stayed in shot, grabbing him by the hair and wrenching his head back. Gordon's attention was brought back to the camera by the movement and Jeff reassuringly held his son's wrist, stopping the young man from doing anything that could potentially put Scott in more danger.

"I…"

"Would you give all the money you have? Would you sell your island? Would you sell secrets?"

"What?" Jeff knew that he had glanced sideways at Gordon, watching as his son seemed to swallow, paling as he did so. While no one had quite known what to expect, this was not it.

"You heard me."

Jeff could tell by the look on Scott's face that he hadn't seen this coming either.

"So what do you want to know? Trade secrets? The profit margins that aren't made available to the public?"

"Do you take me for a fool, Tracy?"

"Can I not answer that considering you have my son at gunpoint?" Jeff wasn't sure whether he was pushing his luck or not until Scott smirked slightly. Despite the situation, he knew that his son was in control. Scott knew what he was doing, and Jeff had to just rely on that.

"I want to know secrets that you tell no one else. No one other than your own family."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Tracy, let me put this straight. I want you to tell the world that you are International Rescue."

Jeff simply stared, only just noticing his shock echoed on Scott's face.

"If you don't-," but whatever threat the man was about to make, Scott wasn't having it. Jeff could only watch as his son's leg swung out of nowhere, toppling the camera. For a moment, the picture remained active from its new position on the floor and Jeff winced as he heard Scott grunt in pain.

Then the screen went black.

TBTB

While his father and brothers had been trying to work out what was going on and then receiving messages from Scott, Virgil had been crawling around the ceiling vents. He had dropped back to the ground at the bar to check on Naomi, but found that the alcohol had got to her and she was fast asleep. Grateful that it would at least keep her out of trouble, Virgil had left his jacket lying over her, straightened the stool and climbed back up. He somehow had to figure out who these men were, then he had to find a way of getting the hostages out of there without anyone being hurt.

When he crawled back through and glanced down on Scott's previous position, Virgil thought that his heart was going to leap from his chest as he realised that neither his brother nor his guard was there. Twisting awkwardly in order to get a better look around the room, Virgil had a heart-stopping moment when his hand slipped and crashed into the same vent he had been peering through. He honestly thought that it was going to fall out and the whole thing would be over, but luck seemed to have decided to re-join his side. Apart from a bang that Virgil couldn't believe no one heard, nothing happened - nothing apart from Mrs H seeming to glance up towards him before catching herself and looking away again.

Somehow, her movement was enough to reassure him that Scott was alright. If something had happened to his brother, Virgil had a feeling that the old lady would not be taking it this calmly. If Scott was okay but simply not there, Virgil knew they must have taken him somewhere else. From what he could make out of the rest of the room – albeit it not very much – he couldn't immediately identify anyone else as being missing.

Deciding they wouldn't have taken him far, Virgil continued to crawl. He had never realised how big the function room was until now when he had to crawl the entire length of it as silently as possible in nothing more than a metal tube. Every time his shoe knocked against it, Virgil was convinced someone was going to reach up and drag him down. Convincedthat he would be found, the artist eventually slipped his shoes off, leaving them in the tunnel as he continued to crawl. It was significantly colder, but also a lot quieter. He knew it would be worth it if he could help Scott without being caught, especially as he didn't yet know how far he was going to have to crawl to find his brother.

Virgil's knees were hurting by the time he found Scott. He had crawled straight out of the main room and seemed to be overlooking some of the small rooms backstage. Scott was standing, his hands tied behind his back as he repetitively kicked at an obviously locked door in an attempt to get out. If Scott could be making this much noise and no one was reacting to it, Virgil knew he had to be alone and so quickly eased the casing off the vent above his brother. It seemed to be attached to something this time, just hanging down into the room rather than completely falling off. Grateful that it was a lot easier to get off than the original one, Virgil grinned cheerfully at his brother as Scott swung around at the noise.

"I knew I heard you earlier."

Virgil hadn't been sure whether Scott would have a go at him for risking himself, but it seemed there was only gratitude in the pilot's voice. Not that Scott could really do anything about it if he didn't like it, not when he was tied up and locked in.

"What's going on? Why are you in here?" Easing himself out of the vents, Virgil hung by his fingertips for a moment before dropping to the floor, landing in a tight crouch before straightening up again. He gave his brother a shove when he caught sight of the appraising look in Scott's eyes, trying to make the older man focus on his own situation rather than Virgil's technique. He immediately regretted it though – Scott looked like he had been on the wrong end of someone's fist, but his brother didn't wince at the shove.

"They're making people bid for their freedom. I thought they didn't believe Dad would pay when they dragged me in here, but it's about so much more than that, Virg. They were sending him a message. They want more than money."

"Were sending?" Virgil decided to focus on one thing at a time. He knew his brother, and if Scott had said they _were _sending, it meant something had happened to interrupt that.

"I broke the camera." Shrugging as sheepishly as he could with his hands tied behind his back, Scott grinned at the eye roll Virgil sent him.

"I've been in contact with John; they know what is going on."

"I figured as much, I could see it in Dad's eyes. But Virg, this whole hostage stuff, it's not the half of it."

"What do you mean?" Virgil hated the fact that he was just standing there, not making any attempt to free Scott. But he knew he couldn't. Until he had managed to find them a way out of the building, he had to make sure the terrorists had no idea he was here. Letting Scott out would put them on high alert, and Virgil knew that his brother could handle himself, no matter what they threw at him.

"They know who we are."

"As in..?" Sitting down on the same crate that his brother had been forced onto, Virgil ran his fingers through his hair as he stared up at Scott. Even bound, his brother looked to be in control. In fact, it wouldn't surprise the artist in the slightest if Scott was already coming up with his own plan.

"As in they know we are IR."

"How?"

"I wish I knew." Scott seemed to be staying remarkably calm as Virgil simply stared at him, his mind racing and his heart pounding.

"But…"

"Virg, I have no more idea than you do. I'm not sure whether this whole thing isn't just to get the press here so that they can reveal it to everyone."

"No one will believe them, though."

"It's not money they want from Dad for me. They want him to tell everyone."

Virgil just gaped. He wanted to be thinking of some plan that would make all of this go away, but his mind had just gone blank. They had always known there was the possibility of something like this happening, but he had never truly thought that it would. As he sat there, stunned, he was sure he could hear footsteps. Judging by the way Scott reacted, he could hear them too.

"They can't find you here! Dad hasn't admitted anything, and if he is sensible, he won't. He knows I'll be fine and you're free, so he won't give them what they want. But if they get you, too…"

"I can't just leave you here!" Virgil stood up as he protested. Deep down, however, he knew that Scott had a point. While their father admitted nothing, the men wouldn't dare to do anything to Scott since they would lose what they saw as their only bargaining chip. But if Virgil was caught as well…

Scott glanced at the door before turning back to his brother. The footsteps were getting closer.

"Go back the way you came, find somewhere safe and call John again. Get through to Dad if you can, tell him not to do anything rash, that I'll find a way of getting us out of this. Don't let him admit to anything, not until we know more about who these guys are and how they might have found out. Get John to pull up all the footage from around here, see if he can figure out who they are. Oh, and Virg? Don't do anything stupid."

"Would I ever? Now come on, give me a boost."

Scott almost seemed to gape at his brother, but moved to stand under the vent. With his hands bound behind his back, there was little he could do, but by using the crate and then Scott's shoulder – pointedly ignoring the grunt from his brother as he did so – Virgil managed to hoist himself up. Grateful that the vent was just hanging, Virgil eased it up again, slotting it into place just as the door opened. He had to bite his knuckle as two men walked in, one punching Scott in the stomach so that he doubled over, before forcing him back down on the crate as they set up another camera. This time, one remained behind his brother, holding him down.

"I'm not the one who's going to do anything stupid, Scotty," Virgil breathed, inching backwards. He had to get back. He had to find out what was truly going on here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support once again, it means a lot.**

Scott had a black eye and a split lip by the time they turned the camera off again. He knew that his father would have used the earlier respite to pull himself together in order to do what had to be done. It was why he had kicked the original camera over in the first place. The men had said what they wanted, expecting Jeff to cave through the shock of seeing his son being held in that position. But with prior warning and then time to think it through, the father had held himself together in a way that clearly frustrated the terrorists. Scott couldn't help but wonder if they were really that stupid. If they really knew that the Tracys were International Rescue, did they honestly think that a few punches would convince Jeff to reveal everything to the world?

"Move!"

Scott grimaced as one of the men grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He hoped that John was having some sort of luck in finding out who these men were, for Scott had had no success. He could detect an American accent in the voice of what seemed to be the leader, but apart from that, there seemed to be no distinctive features. He knew that should he try and describe them, his words would have matched the description of hundreds of people. Virgil might be able to do better considering his artistic eye, but despite knowing his brother was around and helping, Scott wasn't planning on letting him come face to face with the men for long enough to be able to offer that description.

It had come as no surprise when his father had played the innocent card, acting as if he had no idea what they were talking about. When Scott had slithered from the crate onto the floor after a particularly hard punch, Jeff had suitably adapted his air of confusion to one of desperation, saying that he couldn't give them what they wanted because it wasn't true and that they were to leave his son alone. Scott had seen the look in his father's eye though. It was simply an act. Jeff wasn't begging them, he was warning them. No matter how much trouble Scott and his brothers had gotten into as children, nothing they had done had even come close to putting that glint of pure fury in the man's eyes. His pretence was simply him stalling for time. He wouldn't let anything happen to Scott that he didn't think his son could handle, but neither was he about to give up everything they had worked so hard for. Scott wondered whether his father realised that his sons wouldn't forgive him if he caved that easily.

But right now, he had more to think about than his father as the door was unlocked and a sharp shove in his shoulder blades had him stumbling out of the room. His father was making himself seem weak in order to try and prove it was impossible for him to be head of International Rescue and Scott knew that he had to do the same. He deliberately stumbled at the push, almost crashing into the opposite wall. A hand entwined with his collar was enough to pull him back. It took every ounce of self-control for Scott to keep his body relaxed rather than lashing out. Even with his hands tied, he knew that he could take them. But what if they gave some sort of signal before he could silence them, what if the people in the room were hurt before Scott could do anything about it? There was no way that he was going to take that sort of risk, so he just allowed himself to be bundled along.

Despite having to pretend that he was just the playboy son of a billionaire, Scott couldn't stop his eyes from darting around the room anxiously as he was pushed in. It came as something of a relief to see that things hadn't really changed since he had left, that everyone still seemed to be there and relatively unharmed. The military man seemed to be unconscious, but Scott was convinced he was otherwise unhurt. There wasn't enough panic from anyone elsefor him to be hurt any more than that. Scott was fully aware that the privileged also tended to be the most shielded from reality. If there had been a full fight, the hysteria would still be lingering now.

His captors marched him back over to his chair and forced him down in it.

"Scott?"

"I'm good." Scott forced himself to smile at Mrs H, despite the fact the action just caused the split in his lip to widen. She shook her head fondly and tutted, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing the blood away again. Scott found himself softening at her actions, smiling gently in thanks.

"Stop smiling, you'll make it worse," she scolded, giving his knee a tap as she moved into a more comfortable position in her chair.

"What's been happening?" Scott murmured quietly. His guards seemed to have decided they had beaten him down enough for now so that he wouldn't try anything - especially as they had left his hands tied – and had moved away. Despite the fact that he had been pretending for all of this time, Scott couldn't stop a small sigh of relief escaping him. He might be able to handle pain more than he had been letting on, but no one liked to be punched.

"They've had people bidding still, but you're the only one to have been taken out. Why did they take you out? What did they want?"

"To talk to my father," Scott muttered, irritation in his voice. In a way, he had hoped he wouldn't have been the only one. There were a lot of delegates standing in for people higher up in their respective businesses, he couldn't have been the only one who wouldn't be able to offer as much as the owner of the business in question. But with it just being him taken out, it drew attention to him, it singled him out. If there was one thing he had learnt during his time with the Air Force and in International Rescue, drawing attention to yourself was not a good idea.

"What did they want from Jeff?"

"Do you _know_ my father?"

"We met."

Scott had a feeling the subject was being avoided, but he didn't press it. He needed her on his side in order to keep her safe; he didn't want to venture into territory that was uncomfortable. Even so, he made a mental note to ask his dad all about the mysterious Mrs H when he got home. There was no doubt about it; he_ was_ getting home.

"They wanted more money," Scott mumbled, hating to lie to her but knowing that he had no choice. If the captors had the slightest suspicion anyone else could confirm what they suspected_,_ Scott knew it would be used against him. There was no way that he was going to let that happen, not while he could still fight.

"And will he pay?"

Scott gave her a puzzled glance, trying to work out what the old woman wanted him to say.

"Silence!"

One of the men glared in their direction and Scott decided to do as he was told in order to avoid answering. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, gritting his teeth against the ropes wrapped around his wrists. The terrorists seemed to be trying to select the next group of people to bid, but Scott wasn't paying any attention to that. He was too busy trying to twist his hands in order to reach his watch. If he could get some sort of audio to John, he knew his brother would most likely be able to identify the men. Once they knew who they were, they had far more chance of knowing what else they could potentially want rather than just the revealing of International Rescue. If not, it might at least give them a lead as to how they had found out.

Sensing eyes on him, Scott looked up again. The leader was watching him intently, almost as if he knew that Scott was trying something. The pilot stilled, glaring back as coolly as he could, but found that his skin was crawling, something about the look putting him on edge.

"What's he doing?"

Scott jumped. Not because the man had said anything, but because there was movement from behind him. How had he not noticed that he had been pushed past someone on the way in? He had been watched for the whole time and never known it. The man from behind strode forward, grabbing Scott's arm again. He was half-lifted from the seat, his struggles ceasing when he felt a cold blade pressed against his wrist. He just about held back a grunt of pain as his watch was cut off, nicking his skin in the process. The man threw it to the leader, who caught it and looked at it quizzically.

"How much do you think this is worth?"

"Not as much as that young man's over there."

Scott jumped at the cool tone in Mrs H's voice as she nodded over towards Nathan. "His is a lot more flash."

The leader ignored her, instead just locking eyes with Scott. The pilot tried not to swallow hard, not liking the look on the man's face.

Why did he look as if he knew the watch he held had far more value than just monetary worth?

TBTBTB

There had never been many times in his life when Gordon had sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by pieces of paper. It had always been a constant battle between him, his father, grandmother and oldest brother to get him to do his homework. Watching him now, Jeff had to admit that he didn't think that the position looked entirely natural. It simply wasn't Gordon, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, years later, he finally understood why the boy had always whined non-stop at having to sit still to work.

But give him something to focus on that he cared about – namely, a brother being held hostage – and Gordon could be as still as a rock. His eyes were flying over the papers and Jeff found that he was forgetting to do his own research as he watched his son.

John had managed to pull up some of the CCTV footage from around the building. The police had been contacted, but due to the importance of some of the people involved, they had decided to call in the F.B.I and wait to hear how they should proceed rather than rushing straight onto the scene. Knowing that Scott potentially didn't have that much time considering the other agenda on the terrorists' list, John had instead taken matters into his own hands. These men might have been good, but Jeff knew that nothing would be able to match his second-born. John had eventually managed to locate the vehicle that the men had arrived in and then tracked it back to the rental company who had leased it out. They had covered their tracks, though. A quick call had confirmed that the person who had hired it was innocently sitting at home, not having a clue the van had been stolen from their driveway hours before.

But rather than that leading him to a dead end, John had just taken it as a personal challenge. He was sending through every scrap of information that he was slowly managing to pull together, and Jeff only had to look at Gordon before his son had sighed and grabbed a pen and the papers before sitting down.

As if sensing that he was being watched, Gordon suddenly looked up, arching his back like a cat as he uncurled his legs.

"Well?" Jeff should have been looking through his own security footage instead of watching Gordon work. John had decided his father should go through that while he worked on things that needed the more advanced technology that Thunderbird Five could offer. Jeff hadn't complained, and now he was glad that he hadn't tried to do anything more important considering he had spent half the time watching Gordon and the other half worrying about Scott and Virgil.

"I knew there was a reason why I always refused to do this."

"Have you found anything?"

"You mean have I made sense of the muddle of stuff that John has sent through?" Gordon spared a glance towards the still-active portrait, but John was too preoccupied with what he was doing to pay his little brother any attention. "Maybe."

"What?"

"I really could do with a coffee right now, though…"

"Gordon! What have you found?"

Gordon simply rolled his eyes, gathering up some of the pieces of paper and perching on the edge of his father's desk.

"John managed to enhance the CCTV in order to get a facial match on one of the men. I think he might have slipped up glancing around like that; the others made sure that they kept their backs to any cameras. That is kind of worrying as it must mean that they checked out the area so they knew where the cameras were. They are less likely to panic if they don't think they can be identified. People might not get hurt by accident, but they are also less likely to cave during any negotiations…

"Gordon. Back to the point, please."

"Oh, yeah… Right, well… This guy – if we've got this right – is called Zeb Thrandon. He worked for the C.I.A about ten years ago, but was discharged. I can't find out why; everything is classified. John will have to handle that one. Thrandon fell off the grid for a few years, seemed to completely disappear. Turned up again last year and spent six months being tailed by agents after word got out that he had been in contact with some terrorist cells across the globe. He shook off the tails and disappeared again… before re-emerging just last week after being caught on CCTV at a train station in Kansas."

"Kansas? What was he doing there?"

"Here's the catch… he's from there. You never knew him?"

"Kansas is a big place, Gords."

Gordon shrugged, but Jeff could tell by the way he was chewing on his lip that he was thinking about something.

"What?"

When his son refused to elaborate, Jeff found that he was even more intrigued and continued to prompt Gordon to say what was on his mind. The redhead eventually shrugged again.

"You might not have known him, but could he have known about you? The first few plans for the 'birds came through when we were still in Kansas, didn't they? I know you handled most of your work in the New York offices, but could he have…?"

"What? Could he have_ what_, Gordon?"

"Could he have seen anything back then? Had some sort of clue that you were planning something, but then could do nothing about it because we left?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm just thinking…"

"Gordon, I don't care what theory you have; I want to hear anything that could help us get your brothers back!"

John finally glanced around at Jeff's raised voice. He seemed to frown questioningly, but Gordon shook his head and John went back to work. Jeff always found it unnerving how much his boys could say without ever having to open their mouths.

"Right, how is this for a theory…? Thrandon caught a glimpse of something he shouldn't have years ago. Then all this stuff with the C.I.A happened and he went around the world to escape from it. He fell in with some groups that were pretty desperate to make some money, while at the same time hearing about your rise through the business world. As you reached the top, International Rescue suddenly emerged. What if he put the pieces together and decided that what he had seen all that time ago was actually the early plans?"

"With you so far…" Jeff sat back in his seat, a small frown on his face as he worked through what Gordon was saying.

"He finds some plan to hijack a big event and do this whole bidding thing and decided to insert himself into the operation. He suggests the when and where, knowing that a Tracy would be present and it would be the perfect cover to find out if he was right all this time?"

"But how does that explain why he just wants me to admit that we are International Rescue? Surely he would want something more?"

"I might be able to help with that."

Father and son both turned to look at John as he swivelled his chair around, brow crumpled in thought. "I just got into the C.I.A files."

The older brother ignored Gordon as he let out a whistle of disbelief mingled with a hint of pride.

"And?"

"And Thrandon was dismissed because he became obsessed with the idea that plans were being put into place to create weapons far beyond what this world has seen. If we go on Gordon's theory… what if he thought the plans for the 'birds were really for weapons? Apparently he became neurotic about it, it was the only thing he would talk about and he eventually became a liability."

"So he wants me to admit about International Rescue…"

"Just to prove that he wasn't mad, that plans had actually existed, just not for weapons. He doesn't care about the money; he just wants his credibility back."

"Which makes him far more dangerous than the rest of the group," Jeff muttered, both of his sons agreeing with him. He knew how to play the money game, but he didn't know how to deal with this. He was worried; more worried than he was going to let on to his sons. He knew that he couldn't simply admit who they were, not after spending so long working towards making their dream of International Rescue a reality. But if the man truly was obsessive, there would be no telling what he would do to Scott to get what he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews and support, it means a lot. This is the chapter that has the one scene in it that sparked off the whole story, so hope you enjoy.**

"Well, you heard the old lady, take the kid's watch as well."

Scott started as the men began muttering to each other. The one holding his watch didn't seem to want to look away from the pilot and it was taking every ounce of self-control to not simply fix the man with the glare that he knew generally made people do as he asked. He was still outnumbered, and while they might know about his Air Force training if they had done their homework, it still wouldn't explain the authority Scott could muster up if the situation needed it. He needed to wait for an opportune moment to strike. He needed to know where Virgil was and to know that his brother was safe, before he did anything. Keeping his eyes averted from the man, Scott found it was even more of a challenge to keep them away from the ceiling and not do anything that could give away where his little brother was.

"Don't you dare touch me, you pig!"

His decision of where to look was made for him as Nathan reacted. He might have been opting for hiding behind his father when Scott had needed him before, but now it came to his own possessions, Nathan had leapt from his seat, sparks flying from his eyes. Judging by the small tut he could hear coming from Mrs H, Scott knew that she was thinking the same as him. The idiot was going to get himself – and possibly everyone else – killed if he carried on acting like this.

It was as if the thoughts had flown out of Scott's head. One of the terrorist's suddenly stepped forward, waving his gun in Nathan's face.

"Hand it over, kid. May as well make a little extra money on the side."

"Don't you know who I am? Touch me again and I'll make you regret it."

Scott thought that if he could have got away with smacking his head on the back of his chair and groaning in frustration, he would have done so. If it hadn't been for the guard continuing to watch him, then he would have risked it, though judging by the look on the man's face, Scott wasn't entirely sure he would make any move to stop him; he seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Hand it over, kid."

"Never."

"I'll…"

"Hudges, drop it. We don't have time for you to stand there and quarrel over a pathetic trinket. We'll get plenty of money from the brat before the night is out, and if we don't, then you can take the watch from his corpse."

Nathan paled, and Scott was just glad that he had the sense to actually stay quiet this time. Hudges glared at the man, his eyes on Scott's watch.

"So why do you want that one? What's this, Thrandon, one rule for you and one for us?"

Storing away the fact that he now had a name to work with, Scott shifted. Hudges had been the man standing behind him, meaning that while Thrandon was looking towards his colleague, no one was watching the pilot. He managed to edge to the front of his chair, positioning himself in order to be able to simply jump up when the chance arrived. He might not have been able to free his hands, but Scott knew that as long as he had time and surprise, that didn't matter.

"Don't do anything foolish, boy."

Scott jumped, glancing at Mrs H as he did so. It was unnerving how much like his grandmother the woman could sound and he knew by the look on her face that she wasn't buying the innocent expression he had managed to plaster over his face.

"As if I…"

"Scott, I mean it."

"Silence!"

Scott swallowed and tried to send her a reassuring smile. He couldn't make that promise; he couldn't promise to sit by and do nothing while just letting events unfold. He couldn't do anything that would give up International Rescue and give Thrandon what he wanted (whatever that was - Scott still wasn't sure!), but he also had no intention of just sitting there and letting things happen. He just needed the opportune moment.

Thrandon moved towards them, a scowl on his face as Scott levelled his gaze and glared back. There was no way he was going to let this man intimidate him, and certainly no way he was going to allow him to cause any harm to Mrs H.

"Thrandon! Stop it; we don't have time for this. You know Kelp only let you in because you're good at what you do. If you start deviating from the plan, he's not going to be happy with you."

Scott had no idea that he had been holding his breath in anticipation of something happening until Thrandon turned away and he found himself exhaling sharply, sagging slightly in the seat.

"Silly boy," Mrs H scolded lightly, but Scott felt the way her hand awkwardly slipped behind his back and squeezed his own. He returned the grip as best as he could considering his lack of movement and found that he was leaning back again. He might have decided that he had to do something, but that didn't mean he knew what.

In that time, Thrandon had moved back towards his colleagues, clearly unhappy but not able to risk angeringwhoever it was they were talking about. Yet again, Scott found that he was storing the information away for a later date. Thrandon wasn't the one in charge. He might have some influence while being in this room, but he answered to someone else just as much as the rest of them. It meant this hadn't been his idea. That gave Scott hope, for he was sure that no one else in the room knew what Thrandon wanted. Apart from Hudges, but Scott wasn't sure how much the man had been listening as he had held the pilot down while Thrandon had spoken to his father. With any luck, he had been too focused on Scott to notice what was happening behind him at the time. At least that gave International Rescue some sort of security.

"Then I suggest you get on with what the plan is," Thrandon growled, jerking his head towards Nathan as he spoke. Hudges shot him a glare, but moved towards the young man. He had shifted his gun onto his back and stretched out a hand towards Nathan as he moved. Scott knew that he had no intention of going for the watch this time, but that he was aiming to move Nathan himself. Considering the way the other terrorists were pulling other people from their seats, Scott knew they were preparing for the next round of bidding.

Satisfied that Thrandon wouldn't let him be involved with it, Scott forced himself to look as if he was sitting casually. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, not when his eyes were roaming the ceiling, wondering if Virgil was still up there. He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be – at least no one would think of looking for him up there, but if Virgil were to overhear something he didn't like… Scott was fully aware that it didn't matter how many times he told Virgil to not do anything rash, if the artist thought he was helping, then no words of caution from his big brother would stop him. How he was planning to tell whether Virgil was still up there or not, Scott had no idea, but after a moment, he found himself frowning. He wasn't certain if he was just imagining it, but he was almost convinced that a shadow kept falling across the vent directly in his eye line. It was almost as if someone was shifting up there, trying to angle themselves to get a better view of what was going on below.

Biting his lip to stop a groan escaping him, Scott deliberately averted his eyes again. He didn't trust Thrandon, and he was beginning to appreciate that the man was someone unpredictable. He had caught Scott out about his watch through movements Scott was sure no one would have been able to see so there was no way he was going to draw any attention to the fact his little brother might be recording everything that was happening and beaming it up to Thunderbird Five.

"I said get off me, you jerk! I won't go, you can't make me!"

Scott didn't have to think about where to look for more than a few seconds before Nathan's angry shout drew his attention once again. He practically felt Mrs H jump, startled, next to him and twisted in his seat to make sure the old woman was alright. She seemed to be putting on a brave front, but Scott understood the look in her eyes. It was the same look he had seen on the faces of numerous victims who seemed to know they weren't going to make it.

"We'll be okay." His reassuring murmur, however, was drowned out as Nathan let out another yell of protest. Scott glanced back just in time to see the man being forcibly pulled from his chair, two of the terrorists' holding onto each arm. Nathan refused to move, his legs practically buckling and his face ashen. It seemed he had reverted back to his terrified state the second it started being about him again, rather than any of his possessions. The men were growing agitated with him and even some of the guests were beginning to have expressions like thunder. Scott found that he was edging forward on his chair again, ready to spring into action. This was beginning to get out of hand, and he knew that meant it was getting dangerous.

"Get OFF!"

Scott was halfway out of his seat when it happened. Thrandon shoved Nathan fiercely in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step and forcing him back down into his seat. But at the same time, he mimicked the action of the men when they had first arrived - the way they had gained control. He simply lifted his gun in one hand and fired off a round of shots.

Straight into the ceiling.

"No!" Scott was up before he knew what he was doing. The distance between him and Thrandon seemed to just melt away as he charged at the man, using his shoulder to force him off balance and sending them both crashing down to the floor. Hudges and his companion let go of Nathan and dived onto Scott. He was kept on the floor, both of them pressing down to keep him low, but he didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on the vent where he thought he had seen the light flickering before. Thrandon got slowly to his feet, glancing at Scott and then slowly following his eye line. Scott truly believed he had forgotten to breathe at the smirk which crossed over the man's face and he struggled against the men holding him down. But it was no good. With his hands bound and, since he was already on the floor, not to mention the fact that it was two on one, he had no chance of getting himself free.

Thrandon slowly glanced between Scott and the ceiling again, before lifting his gun. Scott almost made it up off the floor before the men could slam him back down again as Thrandon let off a second, then a third volley of shots into the ceiling.

Scott was sure that he must have yelled at the man to stop, but he couldn't be sure. The shots were echoing in his ears and he forgot to struggle as he simply stared at the ceiling. Bullet holes littered the tiling and Scott knew that it would have offered little, if no protection at all, being shot at in that manner. He swallowed hard, trying not to let the fear show in his eyes as Thrandon climbed onto a chair and reached up. Using the tip of his gun, he simply touched the panels in the ceiling. He could only just reach them, and that was by extending the weapon as far as it would go, but it was enough. Scott held his breath as he watched a large crack spread from the bullet holes, almost as if it was some sick game of "dot-to-dot".

Thrandon climbed down and stood back, just in time. A chunk of the ceiling fell away, clouding everyone nearby in a shroud of dust. Scott didn't dare blink even as his eyes watered, craning his neck back in order to look up.

There was a pause, a moment of silence as the dust settled and everyone tried to work out what was going on. But then a yell sounded throughout the room, and Scott didn't know whether to be relieved or not. Another section of the ceiling crumbled, and this time, it was not just dust that fell to the ground. Virgil didn't stand a chance, despite a desperate scramble to stop his fall. Instead, the artist came crashing through the ceiling, landing with a long groan and a thud that made Scott flinch, right by his brother's side. Even Thrandon looked surprised as Virgil let out a wince as he tried to move, before ending up in a heap again.

"Virg?"

"Just thought I'd drop by," Virgil muttered. He managed to turn his head in order to see his brother, and Scott blew out the breath he didn't know he had been holding at seeing that Virgil seemed to be relatively unharmed. Apart from whatever had just happened through him falling from that height, Scott's fears that Thrandon had shot his little brother all seemed to be in vain. Virgil didn't get the chance to say anything else, however, before his eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped again. Scott winced as Virgil passed out, knowing that had been a bad fall. He was just glad there was no blood, nor had he heard anything break. He was almost certain Virgil hadn't hit his head either. It seemed his body was simply protesting at the fall, causing him to lose consciousness.

"Tie him up."

"Don't you dare!" Scott was halfway off the floor before the men holding him down realised that he was rising. He grunted as he was slammed back down again, a hand finding the back of his neck and holding him down as he watched Thrandon approach his brother. The man set the gun to one side and held out his hand to his companion, gesturing for some rope. It seemed that while he had been the one to give the order, he also wanted to be the one to carry it out. Scott locked eyes with the man as he pulled Virgil's limp arms behind him and bound his wrists. Thrandon smiled, a mocking smile that made Scott's blood boil as he straightened up again. But whether or not Thrandon noticed, Scott inwardly smirked when he realised Virgil's sleeve had been covering his watch and Thrandon had just bound the material over it, not seeming to realise that the younger Tracy had the same gadget as the elder brother.

"I think you suddenly have something more to bid with, Tracy," he muttered softly and Scott felt his breath catch. Only the men holding him down heard the words, and they gave no indication they knew what Thrandon was talking about. Scott wasn't even sure whether the man was addressing him or referring to the fact that he now had two sons at his mercy. Scott knew what was going through his head, though. Would their father give up International Rescue now that there were two lives on the line rather than one?

"Take him back to his seat."

"What about him?" Scott tried to resist as they hauled him to his feet again, but it was no good. It was two against one, with his hands bound and his mind distracted by the fact that his little brother was lying unconscious in the middle of the floor. His eyes strayed to Virgil as he was forced back a step and as he looked up, Scott tried to hide his pounding heart over the fact that Thrandon was watching. The man smirked again, grabbing Virgil by the back of his shirt and dragging him away.

"I think he can stay with me, don't you, Scott?"

"If you hurt him, if you so much as touch him…"

"Oh, sit down and shut up."

Scott practically stumbled over his own feet as he was dragged backwards and forced into his own chair again. Mrs H instantly shuffled closer, but Scott was glad she didn't try to offer any words – whether they were scolding or encouraging. Thrandon might have realised that he had just upped the stakes, but he didn't know by how much. Scott might have taken a back seat and kept quiet about what he could do when he was the only one at risk. But now the man had his brother, and there was no way Scott was about to let anything happen to Virgil.

Scott watched Thrandon closely as the man pulled around a chair for himself. Virgil stayed on the floor, but Scott knew that it was no accident that Thrandon's gun was directed at his brother. There might be guards on Scott again, but Thrandon had just ensured he behaved far more than they ever could. The rest of the room had fallen silent again, everyone seeming to be holding their breath as they waited to see what was going to happen next.

"Well? Get on with it; start the next round of bidding!" Thrandon ordered, barely even glancing at his men, but instead continuing to watch Scott. The pilot didn't notice, he was too busy willing Virgil to wake up and be alright.

But it was only through watching Virgil so closely that Scott suddenly became aware of something. Virgil had been turned away from him and he could only see his brother's bound hands. Virgil must have caught his arm on something as Thrandon had moved him, causing his sleeve to ride up his arm a little. Through the way he was lying, it meant that although Scott could see his watch, Thrandon could not. It gave Scott a clear view of the watch, however, and the fact that it was ever so slightly pulsing. Scott had to fight to keep the smile off his face when he realised precisely what was happening. No longer were they isolated and cut off from this with no way to reach the outside world and inform their father what was going on.

Virgil's watch was recording.


	7. Chapter 7

Scott didn't realise how much he had been shifting until Mrs H's hand on his arm stilled him again. He shot her a quizzical look, but the old lady was looking across the room towards Thrandon. Scott followed her gaze and realised the man was watching him as well, the gun moving closer to Virgil. The pilot sighed and forced the tension out of his body. These men were too alert for him to attempt to make it to Virgil before someone was hurt.

"You need to calm down," Mrs H whispered, keeping her voice low, her lips barely moving.

"How? They have my brother at gunpoint and I can't give them what they want."

"What is that?"

Scott suddenly realised what he had said and shook his head, shutting his mouth as he did so. Both he and Virgil were already in enough danger because Thrandon believed he had worked out who they were. Scott knew that if Mrs H knew as well, it would just make her a target. It was going against his nature as a big brother to watch Virgil being threatened like this and not be able to do anything about it. It would go against being a Field Commander if he deliberately put Mrs H in harm's way. He was used to saving people, not getting them into trouble.

"I can get us out. I know that sounds stupid right now, but I can. But in order to do so, I need to get my brother away from them. With a gun on Virg, I can do nothing."

Scott shifted again, only this time it was in frustration. The rest of the terrorists had somehow got Nathan up onto the stage and dragged up a few others with him. But Scott kept his back to them, watching his brother closely even as the bidding began. Thrandon smirked, his hand almost caressing his gun. The look on his face was as if he was daring Scott to do something.

"Leave it to me."

Scott barely had time to look at Mrs H, let alone work out what she had just said when he felt the old woman suddenly sag against him. As he opened his mouth to say something, her hand fluttered to her chest and she gave a few small gasps. It was only due to the position they were in that Scott could feel her heart beating strongly and so knew it was all a pretence.

"Someone help her!" he yelled, trying to make it look as if he believed what was happening. He twisted, calling her name and trying to get a reaction. With his hands still bound, there wasn't a lot he could do apart from continue to call for help. The noises from the stage stopped and two of the men stepped up to them. One grabbed Scott by the collar, pulling him back and holding him out of the way as the other put his hand on Mrs H's shoulder.

"What's wrong, lady?"

"Oh… my heart…it's going so fast, can't you feel it?" Mrs H grabbed the man's hand, pulling it towards her chest as if she was going to make him feel her heartbeat. Scott had to hand it to her; she knew what she was doing, as the man instantly pulled away, his movement aggressive.

"The old lady is sick. What do we do with her?"

Thrandon slowly got up. Scott kept his eyes locked on the man as he stepped over Virgil, stalking towards them. He forced his face to show only concern, swallowing nervously as Thrandon looked at him. If the man realised this was some kind of ruse, Scott didn't want to think about what the consequences would be.

He stopped in front of Mrs H, who was still breathing erratically. "What's going on here?"

"What does it look like?" Scott spat, making to lean forward but allowing the hand on his shoulder to stop him. "You've scared her half to death. These thugs are enough to make anyone feel vulnerable, let alone someone like that!" He hoped he was making it sound as if he, too, was afraid, trying to get Thrandon to let his guard down slightly. The man barely even looked at Mrs H, instead studying Scott intently. Finally, he stepped back with a nod.

"Take the old woman into one of the storerooms. Take that one with her," he nodded over his shoulder towards Virgil's prone form. "Lock the door, bind her hands, but come back here. They won't give us any trouble. Take Tracy here to the same room as before."

"I'm not tying up an old woman!"

"Then check his knots are secure before you leave them. As for you," Thrandon glared menacingly at Mrs H, "touch those ropes and I'll kill you, understand?"

Mrs H tentatively nodded and Scott wasn't sure whether she was faking it or genuinely worried. He couldn't find out, not when the attention was then back on him. Scott winced as he was hauled back to his feet. He had needed the gun to be away from Virgil, but hadn't counted on losing sight of his brother. The same man who had been holding him back maintained his grip, shifting it onto Scott's arms and holding him still as one of his accomplices walked forward. He helped Mrs H to her feet, one arm resting across her back to help her along. For her part, Mrs H clutched at him as if she was having trouble standing. Scott glared as one of them swung Virgil up over his shoulder, but could do nothing. The three of them were forced from the room, but when Mrs H and Virgil were dumped in one room, Scott was dragged further down the corridor. A sharp shove in his back sent him stumbling into the room and he landed heavily, unable to break his fall.

The door was slammed shut and locked again. Scott awkwardly scrambled to his feet and kicked the wall in frustration. Now he had no idea what was going on and no way of knowing whether Virgil was safe or not. Wrestling with the ropes around his wrist for a moment, Scott eventually sat back down again. His body rocked forward until he could rest his head on his knees, hoping that his little brother was safe. Now more than ever, he could truly feel the loss of his watch, and he hated being out of contact with everyone.

TBTBTB

It took every ounce of Virgil's self-control not to flinch when he felt himself being dropped back down to the floor. He knew that he couldn't react, not without them realising that he was awake. At least they hadn't noticed back in the main room. He had regained consciousness almost as soon as his hands had been bound, but had stayed still. Within seconds, he'd known that if he could keep the pretence up, they would eventually lower their guard around him and he would have the chance to do something to help the others, maybe even finding them a way out. When he cracked his eyes open a tiny amount and found himself looking at Thrandon's boots, he almost cursed. He knew without having to look any further that he was being used against Scott in some way. He was annoyed at the men for realising it would be enough to keep Scott still, but also found that he was annoyed at his brother for letting it work. Scott would constantly put himself in danger if he thought it would help him and yet wouldn't let Virgil return the favour.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Virgil had to smile at the way Mrs H's breathing instantly evened out.

"Right," she announced to no one in particular, and Virgil got the feeling she hadn't quite planned what to do next. The fact there was no answer to her voice made Virgil satisfied enough that they were alone and he opened his eyes, using his legs to flip himself upright. For a second, his legs continued to move even though his body was upright and Virgil found himself remembering why his grandmother had never let them run in the house with only socks on. It was hard to maintain his grip without shoes!

"Nice acting," he told her with a smile, wrestling with the ropes around his wrists. The old woman gaped at him for a long moment before shaking her head in a resigned manner.

"I could say the same. Come here."

Knowing that it wasn't a suggestion, Virgil moved across to her and grinned as she turned him around, beginning to work on the ropes. He had heard the threat Thrandon had made if she untied him, but he could also tell by the look in her eye that she didn't care.

"Your watch is flashing."

"Oh…it does that. New gadget, haven't worked out how to turn the flashlight off yet." Virgil hoped that his acting skills were staying strong as he tried to think of a cover story for why his watch was lighting up. Part of him hoped John would be listening in and would disconnect from his end, but the other part of him knew that his brother needed to be on the line to be able to find out what was going on and what the plan was to get them out of this.

"I see. That must be useful. Would be more useful if it could talk to someone, though."

"That would be handy." Virgil forced himself to keep his voice light as he felt the ropes give way and slid his hands free. He instantly took a step away from Mrs H, not liking the way the conversation was going. He needed space, needed to make sure she couldn't hear the way his heart was pounding uncomfortably hard. Scott stayed at Mobile Control for a reason – he could keep a stony face even if the press were getting too close and asking too many questions. Virgil tended to leave it to his big brother for this very reason.

"It would."

Now feeling particularly uncomfortable about the way Mrs H was just gazing at him, Virgil forced a smile onto his face and moved so that he could examine the lock on the door. He was sure he could use the ceiling again to get to Scott, but he couldn't just leave Mrs H locked in here on her own. Thinking about that made him chuckle slightly, wondering if Naomi was still drinking the bar dry. If he was honest, he was feeling more comfortable preparing to pick a lock than he had been dealing with her drunkenness.

"I think I might be able to…"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Virgil, just call for help."

"They took my phone."

"I can't imagine whoever it is up in that space station of yours gets a signal."

"_What?"_ Virgil found himself pressed against the door, desperately trying to think of something to say in order to deny everything she was saying. Scott had already been hurt as the men had tried to get their father to admit who they were. What if she was with them and this was just another tactic?

"Don't look at me like that, boy. And don't try and lie to me either. I know precisely what would happen if you called for help through that watch of yours. And tell Scott he needs to work on his acting skills. That rich boy act really doesn't suit him, he slipped up so many times. And… Virgil? Are you alright?"

"I…" Virgil could practically feel how pale he had gone and there seemed to be a roaring sensation rushing through his head. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Mrs H seemed to realise what he was thinking and smiled gently. She came towards him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Virgil. I'm on your side. They'll find out nothing from me."

"But…how?" Virgil could only stand there and blink at her, his mind whirling as he tried to work out what on earth was going on. How could this woman that he had met before know who they were? Especially considering Scott already seemed to have a past with her.

"I think that is a question you'd best ask your father. It's not my secret to give away. I didn't realise it was a family business though, not until I saw the way Scott reacted when the men first came into the room. Now how about you call for help and we make a plan to save your brother?"

"F.A.B." Virgil said with a smile, shaking his head in bemusement at the whole situation. Moving back across the room, he perched on top of an upturned box and lifted his watch. Pressing a button, he grinned at Mrs H.

"Thunderbird Five come in."

TBTBTB

John had been tapping away at the mainframe of Thunderbird Five when he received Virgil's call. He had immediately patched through to the island when he realised that Virgil's watch was recording and had joined his father and Gordon in a frantic attempt to try and piece together what they were hearing. Although they had heard Scott more than once, John knew that he wasn't the only one worried about the fact Virgil had yet to make a sound.

When Scott and Virgil had been split up, John found worry coursing through him. Virgil might have been unconscious, but he was still their only link to finding out what was happening with Scott. John had already heard enough to know that Scott's watch was out of action and any attempt to connect to it would just be giving Thrandon what he wanted by proving there was more to him than the rich act he had been putting on. At least he hadn't seen Virgil's watch so they still had a way of keeping an eye on what was going on. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brothers, it was more he knew how headstrong and stubborn both could be if they thought they were helping someone, even each other.

John had just about made out the sound of a door being shut and locked before Virgil's voice was spiralling through the recording. John knew that he wasn't the only one who had let out a sigh of relief; his father had sagged in his chair even as Gordon had grinned at his brother's deviousness. John knew that Virgil had just earned himself a few points of respect from their younger brother by being able to fool the men for that long.

But the conversation he could hear taking place sent alarm through him. It was only the resigned look on his father's face that had stopped John from immediately demanding answers, knowing there was more going on than he realised and that by seeking answers now, he would be delaying sorting out a rescue for his brothers. When Virgil switched off the recording and directly contacted him, John felt himself relax even more.

"You okay, Virg?" His brother might have been pretending to be unconscious for that length of time, but John could remember how high those ceilings were. The fall would still have hurt.

"I'm fine."

"I told you crawling through the ceiling was a bad idea, you were lucky not to get yourself shot…"

"John, please. I'm going to get that badly enough from Scott later. Maybe I'll forget to untie him until after he is done."

"_Virgil!_"

"What? You know how he gets. Anyway, do you know where he is?"

"Nope. All we can guess from what they said is that they took him to the same room as earlier. I'm assuming you'll be able to find it as you were there before?"

"I took the ceiling last time, Johnny. And I'm supposed to be out cold and locked in, I don't even know what room I'm in, let alone how to get to Scott. Any ideas who these guys are? How's Dad taking it?"

"I'm taking it just fine, thank you, son."

John hadn't even turned to face the monitors before Jeff cut in. He had almost forgotten that the island was still connected, his worry over Virgil stopping him from thinking about which channels were open.

"We think we have figured out who Thrandon is," John reported, his eyes scanning over everything they had managed to pull up.

"We? There was no _we_ about it,_ I_ figured it out…"

"Yes, well done, Gordon, now shut up, I'm trying to talk to Virgil. We've been looking into the other hostages as well, just in case any of them have something to hide. One of them, Daniel Wasper… he was in the army. If you can, get him free, he'll be able to help get everyone out."

"How do I know who it is?"

John paused, realising that was a good question. He turned back to the monitors, trying to get the security footage from his father's building. He could see most of the room, but the cameras were at awkward angles.

"I'll look into it." John blinked, realising that he must have voiced his thoughts aloud and that his father had heard him. For someone who could run the most advanced secret organisation the world had ever seen, the security in his own buildings wasn't that strong.

"Scott will know who he is." There was a quiet note in Gordon's voice this time, and John knew that he was being serious. He found that he was nodding in agreement, believing Gordon simply because he knew Gordon understood that aspect of Scott's past.

"That's great, but I'm not with Scott."

"Then ask Mrs H."

"Dad?" John stared at the monitor, almost picturing the look on Virgil's face. He knew his father would have heard the recording and known that Virgil was not alone before he had made contact. But to hear the man acknowledge that someone else was in the room and they were in on the secret made John feel uncomfortable.

"Dad, what's going on?"

"You'll know who it is, won't you, Mrs H?"

"Yes, thank you, Jefferson. Now, can you please tell your son to stop looking at me like I've grown a second head?"

"Virg!" John got there first, finding that his older brother instinct wanted him to reach out and cuff Virgil over the head, despite the impossible nature of his actions. Virgil cleared his throat self-consciously and John realised how weird this must be for him. It was strange enough hearing about someone knowing, but his brother was locked in a room with said person…

Before he could say anything more, a movement on one of the cameras he was monitoring caught his eye. Ignoring his father and brother as Virgil tried to reassure the man he was fine, John frowned and started pulling up more of the camera feeds. Once he had established what he was looking at and the direction Thrandon was heading in, he groaned.

"Virg, you've got incoming."

Virgil swore and the line instantly went dead. John stayed where he was, staring at the monitor as Thrandon walked out of his limited view. Virgil might have sounded fine, but he was still up against an unknown enemy who was armed. John just hoped his little brother knew what he was doing.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, they really mean a lot to me._

* * *

As soon as John disconnected, Virgil felt his mind whirling. He simply stood where he was, staring at Mrs H as he tried to think about what to do. He knew that he had a few options, but as to which would prove safest and – more importantly – which would get him back with Scott, he wasn't sure.

"Get on the floor!" Mrs H hissed and Virgil dropped. He knew that no matter what action he thought to take, it was vital that Thrandon believed he was still as helpless as he had been when he had first fallen through the ceiling. He put his arms behind his back and grinned as Mrs H nudged the rope towards him. By taking hold of either end, he was able to wrap it around his wrists in such a way that he would appear bound, but could pull himself free at a second's notice.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Ask me that again and I'll knock you out for real, boy. Now, just stay quiet."

Virgil had to fight not to smile at the note in the old woman's voice. She didn't need someone to protect her, she needed someone who was going to be able to do something to get them out of this mess. If Virgil wasn't able to, then she would just find someone else who could. Virgil could hear the footsteps coming closer now and could see Mrs H sitting back down on an upturned box, a distressed look on her face. Thinking that no one would be able to stand a chance against her, Virgil grinned one last time and shut his eyes.

He was just in time. No sooner had he forced his body to go limp when the lock turned on the door. As soon as it was open, Thrandon barrelled his way in. Virgil could hear from his heavy breathing that he was fuming and wondered what had happened in order to make him so angry. A helpful voice at the back of his mind told him the chances were that Scott had done something, but he refused to listen. He couldn't worry about Scott just yet, not until he could stop worrying about himself. He heard Thrandon move further into the room and had to bite his lip in order to not react when he felt a boot nudge him.

"Please, Sir… don't hurt us…" Mrs H had slipped back into her defenceless old lady act as easily as Virgil had pretended to be unconscious. As Thrandon turned his attention towards her, Virgil knew what he needed to do.

"Why would I hurt you? Have you done something that I need to hurt you for? Something like helping this boy here?"

"How can I help him when he is unconscious?" Mrs H practically whimpered, but Virgil heard Thrandon take another step towards her. Virgil began inching his legs closer into his body, tensing as he did so but making sure that he didn't draw Thrandon's attention back to him. Very slowly, he cracked open an eye and saw the man had turned his back. He couldn't move fast for that would surely make him turn back, but Virgil risked unwinding the rope from around his hands.

"I don't know. But there is something about you, woman. Something I neither like nor trust."

"I could say the same about you, Sir."

Virgil could tell by Mrs H's voice that she had seen his movement and knew that Virgil was not going to stay on the floor. By goading Thrandon, she forced the man to take another step towards her and Virgil knew that this was his time to act. Making sure there were no sudden movements – if Thrandon turned while he was still rising, Virgil knew the man would have the upper hand – Virgil slowly got to his feet. Thrandon didn't seem to notice, his attention was still fixed on Mrs H.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Don't talk to me like that, young man."

Virgil grinned at just how much like his grandmother Mrs H was sounding, but didn't say anything. Slowly, he moved around until he was in between Thrandon and the door. One glance showed he had come alone, clearly believing they would be no trouble. Why he had come at all troubled Virgil slightly, but he forced himself not to think about it. He could tell by the look on Mrs H's face that she was waiting for his signal before doing anything and when Virgil was sure that no one else was around to hear them, he gave a sharp nod. The old woman smirked – Virgil couldn't believe what he was seeing – and stood up from the box.

"You really should learn not to try and intimidate old ladies, you know."

"Why you…" Thrandon lunged for her, but Virgil simply stretched forward his hand and tapped him on the shoulder. Thrandon turned, but gaped at him for a moment. Virgil gave him a second to look down to where the artist had been lying and back again, just long enough for him to realise they had been playing him for a fool the whole time, before fisting his hand in the front of Thrandon's shirt.

"Don't you know to respect your elders?" He kept his voice mild and mocking and Thrandon growled, instantly swinging for him. Virgil ducked and sent his fist into Thrandon's chin, flooring the man. He followed him down, keeping his hand wrapped in the material of his shirt.

"Where's my brother?" he demanded, making it clear that he wouldn't hesitate to use force to get the answers that he needed. No one got between him and his brothers!

Thrandon spat out a bubble of blood and just leered at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Where is he?" Virgil yelled, clenching his fist again. Mrs H moved past him, checking the corridor.

"Dead."

"Liar. Tell me where he is."

"You'll never find him. And the longer you have to ask me, the more damage is being done to him."

Virgil knew the distress was showing on his face and he let his fist fly again before he truly knew what he was doing. Thrandon's head snapped back at the blow, but the man chuckled.

"Where is he?"

"Virgil, dear, come along."

Mrs H's hand rested on his back and Virgil made sure he kept Thrandon pinned as he turned. The old woman had a sympathetic look on her face but her eyes were blazing.

"His men will be coming looking for him soon. We can't be here when they do; it was lucky that he wasn't armed. We have to go."

"But Scott…"

"We will find him. This worthless man clearly doesn't want to tell us. You found him before, we can do it again."

Thrandon looked like he was about to question when Virgil had found Scott before, but the artist slammed him into the floor as he stood up, making sure they would have time to lock the door again before he regained his senses. Virgil stood over Thrandon for a moment, glaring down at him. It was only Mrs H resting her hand on his arm that stopped him from continuing to try and find out where his brother was.

"You're lucky she is here," he told Thrandon, finally letting some of the tension out of his body as Mrs H tugged him from the room. Thrandon leapt to his feet the second he had space to do so, but Virgil threw his weight against the door, slamming it shut. It took his whole strength to hold it shut against the man while Mrs H fumbled with the bolt. Virgil had a moment of panic when Thrandon seemed to be able to force the door slightly, but he threw himself against it just as the lady managed to push the bolt in. Virgil fell back, panting slightly but took one look at her face and grinned. They could hear Thrandon pounding angrily on the door, but it was holding. He was now as stuck as they had been.

When Virgil thought about what he had said about Scott, he felt his smile slip as quickly as it had come. He sighed heavily, looking down the corridor and wondering which of the many rooms were hiding his brother from him.

"Don't you worry, boy. We will find him." Mrs H's hand gave his shoulder a squeeze of reassurance and Virgil forced himself to relax.

"I think I'm the one who is lucky you are here," he murmured. The old woman grinned at him in such a Gordon manner that Virgil blinked. By the time he focused his vision again, she was already moving off down the corridor. Realising just how much he meant his words, Virgil shook his head and jogged after her. After two steps, he stopped and swore. Mrs H glanced back at him, but Virgil only shook his head as he bent down. A few moments later and he was running after her again, his socks on the floor as he moved with bare feet.

His grandmother would be proud – no slipping over for him now.

They had escaped. Now all they needed to do was find Scott.

TBTBTB

Scott lay where the last blow had felled him, panting. He was desperately trying to stop himself from giving away how much that had hurt, for he knew that would do nothing to reassure his father. Thrandon had disappeared after setting up the camera again and Scott had found that he was nervous over the fact that no demands had been made this time. Instead, one of the terrorists had simply punched him. Scott knew what was going on: demands would be made next time. Right now, Thrandon was just trying to make his father squirm, give him a hint of how far he would go. The fact that he hadn't even mentioned he had hold of Virgil meant Scott knew he was saving that as his final blow. Push their father right to the edge, and then send him stumbling over it by revealing that it was not one son they had hold of, but two.

Knowing they had Virgil - and that while Virgil was unconscious there was nothing he could do to defend himself - was killing Scott. He knew he had to play the rich-boy act and trust that at least one of his brothers (or even father, Scott wasn't fussed) came up with something wouldn't do anything to him right now; it was of no benefit to him. If Scott could keep them busy in here, then they would have no reason to go after his little brother.

A foot to the stomach stopped Scott's thoughts there and then and he tried to curl in on himself a little. It took every ounce of his self-control not to fight back, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet, not until he knew that Virgil was safe. He had to carry on pretending that he didn't know what he was doing, knowing his father was being forced to watch as the man kicked him again. Jeff had initially been trying to make them stop, but he too seemed to have realised Thrandon's game and so had fallen silent. Scott couldn't help but wonder what on earth his father was doing in order to keep Gordon quiet as well, though.

"_Scott!"_

Scott knew that he had been out of sight of the camera for long enough for his family to start worrying. He opened his mouth to tell them that he was fine, but a fist grabbing his hair cut off any words. He was yanked into an upright position and Scott didn't even need to fake the gasp. His attacker let go and Scott wavered for a moment but managed to stay kneeling. He looked up into his father's concerned face and gave a small nod. He was fine; he could handle this. Jeff smiled gently back in response, and Scott knew the message had been received even if his father didn't like it. There was nothing the man could do and the last thing Scott wanted was for Thrandon to get his own way.

"_It's alright, son. You're not alone."_

"Silence." One of the men clearly didn't want Jeff attempting to reassure his son, but Scott was simply frowning at the monitor. His father hadn't just said those words randomly, he had meant them specifically, of that Scott was sure. He was alone though, since Virgil was… Virgil! If Jeff was trying to tell him that he had help, surely there was only one other person in this whole building he would have been able to speak to. He knew that Virgil's watch had been recording, but that wouldn't have been enough for Jeff to feel like he could reassure the elder brother. Scott found that he was kneeling in a more upright position, frowning as he studied his father's face. It was either Virgil or reinforcements from outside had arrived. Scott wasn't sure what good that would do – the fact the terrorists were armed meant he was convinced police would try and negotiate before storming the building, something that would take time. But if his father was trying to reassure him now, then Scott was almost certain he must mean Virgil. He locked eyes with his dad, letting his expression do the talking for him. Jeff held his gaze and then gave a very small dip of his head.

Scott almost sagged in relief. Virgil was awake, which meant he was able to defend himself and get out of the building. Scott returned Jeff's nod, feeling his blood beginning to burn with the anticipation of a fight. If Virgil could look after himself, it meant that Scott had no need to simply sit here and take it. He glanced to one side to see one of the terrorists raising his fist again. Scott practically grinned as he watched it coming towards him, then ducked out of the way at the last moment and sprang to his feet. His hands were tied and he was outnumbered three to one, but that didn't stop the Field Commander from ramming his shoulder into one man and sending him stumbling back into his companion, toppling them both to the floor.

Scott turned in time to see another try and strike out at him. He dropped to the floor, swivelled his leg around and tripped the man. The man fell hard; knocking himself out as he went down and making Scott breathe a sigh of relief that there was now one less to deal with. Backing away from the other two, Scott felt his fingers scrabble uselessly at the rope holding his hands. Unless he could untie himself, he knew that he had no chance of winning. He continued to back up, but felt the wall pressing in on him within just a few steps. By the look on the men's faces as they approached, they knew he had cornered himself.

One swung for him again and just in time Scott managed to get a grip on the knot. He wasn't quick enough to duck the blow this time, but he was quick enough to finally slide his hands free and deliver his own before the man got another chance. With two of them now floored and not getting up any time soon, Scott turned his attention to the third.

Only to instantly freeze at the gun pointing at him.

Scott swallowed, not being sure what the best course of action was. He needed something to defend himself with, but the man took advantage of his hesitation, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back into view of the camera. Scott was kneeling side-onto the screen, the man in front of him with the gun pointing at him. Scott had a clear view of the door while the man's back was to it, and he was thankful for that fact as he caught sight of a shadow flickering underneath. It was as if someone was standing on the other side and Scott found that he was glancing back at the monitor again, attempting to get his father to confirm without words that Virgil was really alright.

"I don't know what Thrandon wants from you Tracys, but I know what _I_ want."

Scott had his attention drawn back to the man as the safety was released on the gun. He made to rock backwards, to try and duck out of the way, but he knew he wouldn't be able to move fast enough.

"_No, leave him alone!" _Jeff's shout was loud and alarmed, but somehow, Scott was sure it was more than just fear for his son. It was some sort of signal to whoever it was outside. Sure enough, the door immediately burst open and Scott nearly fell over again in relief at seeing Virgil standing there.

"You're too late," the man snarled, pressing the gun into Scott's forehead. What precisely happened next, Scott wasn't sure. One second, the man was standing over him and Virgil had taken a small step forward, the next, the man was on the floor, yet Virgil hadn't moved. Scott felt his eyes go wide as he looked at the chair that had bowled over his attacker and somehow managed to knock the man out at the same time.

"Did you just throw a chair at him?" The incredulity in Virgil's voice relieved Scott, reassuring him that he wasn't the only one who wasn't sure what had just happened. He found himself grinning as Mrs H stepped into the room.

"I thought he needed a sit down," the old lady said primly, looking as if she was dusting herself off as she moved. Virgil shook his head with a bemused smile, moved across the room and offered out his hand to his brother. Scott took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet.

"Are you…"

"Hey, Dad." Virgil ignored Scott's attempts to make sure that he was okay and instead addressed the monitor. Mrs H had picked up the same chair she had thrown, straightened it, and now was sitting on it. Virgil clambered up a small set of steps that were clearly used for props before sitting comfortably on them, his hand rising to his neck as he loosened his tie, leaving it hanging halfway down his neck.

"So, we got a plan to save the day then? What's John got?"

"Virg," Scott hissed, unable to believe his brother wasn't watching what he was saying. Virgil simply shrugged.

"She knows. She knows everything. And doesn't think you can act either, by the way... So, I'm assuming you've been thinking of a great plan while getting beaten up?"

Hearing Gordon laughing over the monitor, Scott chuckled himself and sat down as well.

"Well…"


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you again for the continuous support, it means a lot. A special thank you to Whirlgirl._

* * *

"No way, I'm not going back up there."

"Virg, come on, it's the only way…"

"No."

Scott rolled his eyes as Virgil flat out refused to hear the rest of his plan. His brother even looked like he would walk out into the hallway and back towards the main room rather than listen to his brother. The only thing that was stopping him was Mrs H sitting in the way, and Scott knew by the look on her face that she was not going to let Virgil go anywhere. Scott just found himself hoping that she understood his plan better than Virgil did.

"You just want me out of the way the same way you normally do."

"If I wanted you out of the way, little brother, I would be leaving you here where it is safe, not sending you out to the front of a building that you have already told me is guarded.

"_Your brother is right, son."_

Both brothers turned simultaneously at the voice coming from the monitor. Thrandon had had no idea he would be allowing the family to plan what was going to happen together when he set up the camera. Scott didn't want to think about the true reason why it had been switched on, but instead just focused on the issue at hand: ideally getting out of this alive. He and Virgil glanced at each other, not being sure who Jeff was addressing until their father spoke again.

"_You need to know the way is clear for the cops to come in without there being a shoot-out on the stairs and alerting everyone to what is going on. They don't know you are conscious, they won't be looking for you for a while."_

"But Dad-"

"_No, Virgil. I want you to follow your brother's lead. John is using this signal to try and get into their networks so we can find out more about who they are, but I will not have you two just sitting there waiting for them to come back."_

"So why can't Scott go and clear the stairs?"

Scott had to chuckle at the pout on Virgil's face, but someone else spoke up before he did.

"Your brother is needed to get into the room. He can give a message to that other man without having to say anything. You might have established your own code for your line of work, but I doubt you know military code. Believe it or not, your brother was quite the captain in his day."

"It's still my day!" Scott protested, but the words worked to wipe the pout off Virgil's face.

Mrs H leant forward, her eyes twinkling. "And don't you think it's time for him to play the hero? You've done your part."

Virgil sighed, glancing at Scott and then back towards the door before looking at the camera again. Scott knew he wasn't the only one watching Virgil with an expectant look on his face and Virgil eventually nodded.

"Fine, I'll go through. But only to make sure the way is clear for the cops. Then I'm coming back for you."

"Deal." Scott struggled to keep himself from smirking at Virgil's words. Virgil seemed to be able to tell, however, for he shot Scott a filthy look before standing a chair upright and beginning to climb up on it to reach the ceiling panels. One glance at the monitor showed both their father and Gordon were still watching intently and Scott knew he should probably do something to help Virgil. He stepped forward just as the ceiling panel that Virgil was loosening fell free, only just jumping back in time to avoid being hit. Scott knew that it was no accident – Virgil had known he would move in time but was clearly not happy about being the one sent out.

Bending down next to the man who had threatened to shoot him, Scott took a deep breath as he picked up his gun.

"Here," he murmured, holding it out to Virgil. The artist's expression softened as he took it and tucked it into the top of his trousers. Scott didn't need to ask why. By sending Virgil out armed, it proved Scott truly believed he would run into some sort of trouble, meaning his job was a real one rather than just an attempt to get him out of harm's way.

Virgil placed both hands in the gap, preparing to haul himself upright, but before he moved he glanced back down at his big brother again.

"Be safe?"

Scott nodded, trying to offer his brother a reassuring smile. "You too, kid."

Virgil rolled his eyes at the nickname but pulled himself through the gap. Scott picked up the piece of tile and balanced it back over the hole once Virgil was out of sight. Virgil wouldn't be coming back this way, and he had no intention of making it obvious where his brother had gone in case someone came looking for them.

"_Scott?"_

"I'm okay." The pilot found that he was answering on automatic, not looking at the monitor as he combed his fingers through his hair. He had deliberately tried to give Virgil the safest job out of the pair of them, but that didn't mean he was happy about letting his little brother have to make sure the edge of the building was safe enough for the cops to approach. It was up to Virgil to convince the cops that negotiations were going to get them nowhere, the police needed to move in hard and fast before this got even more out of control than it already had. Arming him might have made Virgil feel like he was doing something useful, but it also drove home to his brother the danger he could potentially be walking into.

"Don't worry about him, your brother knows how to handle himself. The only thing that he will need to worry about is how to brush up the knees on that suit - he is completely destroying them with all this crawling around. Now, how about you put your part of the plan into action as well, or are you going to leave all of the hard work to your brother again?"

"I… yes, Ma'am." Scott made to protest; to claim that he hadn't really been given an option about doing anything useful. But the words died in his throat as he realised that not only was Mrs H right – if they got out of this it would be thanks to Virgil – but that she was also trying to take his mind off what he had just sent Virgil to do. Shaking his head with a grin, Scott looked around the room. The other two guards had left their guns leaning against the wall and Scott hoisted one into his hands. They had clearly been told not to do any lasting damage and had made sure they had kept them out of Scott's way – bound or not they clearly had picked up enough to know that he would use one given the chance.

Glad to find that it was loaded, Scott swiftly checked it over, looped the strap over his head and let the gun hang down his back. After a moment, he took it off again, pulled off his tie and jacket, rolled up his sleeves and then replaced the gun. At least he now felt like he had movement back. Scott turned towards the second gun, but before he could pick it up, a throat softly clearing made him turn.

Mrs H was once again sitting on her chair now that Virgil had finished climbing all over it and she raised an eyebrow at Scott, looking at him meaningfully. For a moment, Scott drew a blank about what it was the old woman wanted. Mrs H rolled her eyes and gestured towards the weapon still leaning against the wall. Scott swallowed, finding that he was glancing towards the monitor as he did so with the hope that his father would give him a clue about what he should do. Whether Jeff was doing it deliberately or not, Scott didn't know, but the man was looking away from the camera just when his son needed him the most.

"Virgil is going to get the cops in before you even leave this room if you don't hurry up, dear."

Scott knew by that tone of voice that he didn't really have a choice. He checked the second gun even more thoroughly than he had checked his own before handing it over, trying not to show how nervous he was about doing so. Mrs H simply took it without a word, expertly tucked it under her arm and settled herself back in her chair. Her positioning was so similar to the way Grandma sat to knit that Scott didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Well? You weren't going to leave me here defenceless were you? Where are your manners? Off you go and save the day then." Mrs H made a shooing motion with her hands and Scott found himself stumbling for the door. He stopped and turned back towards the screen one last time.

"_Good luck, son."_

That was all Scott needed to know this was the right thing to do and he sped out of the door without a backward glance.

After all, Mrs H had a point. He couldn't let his little brother do all the heroics.

TBTBT

"Why is it always me?" Virgil grumbled to himself as he slowly made his way through the vents. After Thrandon had shot at the ceiling, Virgil was paranoid that the whole thing was suddenly going to crumble under him. He could see a burst of light from a short way ahead of him and knew he was over the function room. Somehow, he had to find a way around the hole in the ceiling without anyone realising that he was up there. He knew they couldn't find out that he was conscious again; he had the element of surprise this way. But still, Virgil couldn't help but feel that Scott had sent him up here because he wanted him out of the main fight.

Thoughts of his brother were pushed from his mind as Virgil neared the hole. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get around it and yet again found himself cursing Scott. Making sure the gun couldn't slip from his waist, Virgil managed to raise himself on all fours and awkwardly make his way forward. He knew that it must be a sight to watch and was glad he had disconnected his watch. It had been done to make sure nothing could give him away, but now he was just grateful that it didn't give John a visual of what he was trying to do.

If he was honest, Virgil had no idea how he made it over the hole. As soon as he was clear, he felt himself thud back down again and instantly froze, adamant that he had just given himself away. In actual fact, Virgil was half-expecting the ceiling to simply fall down now that he had put his weight back on a bit that had already been ruined, but fate somehow seemed to be on his side and no alarm was raised.

Blowing out the breath he didn't know he had been holding, Virgil continued to edge his way along, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He knew that it couldn't have taken him long, but it felt like an age until there came another burst of light and he knew that he had found the hole he had first climbed through in the first place. Very slowly, Virgil flattened himself out until he was lying on his stomach, peering carefully through the hole to make sure they hadn't sent anyone back outside to keep watch. When all seemed quiet, he swivelled around and lowered himself out. Automatically dropping into a crouch as he landed, Virgil took a moment just to double-check that no one had reacted to his movement.

When all stayed quiet, Virgil pulled the gun out and swiftly moved over to the large windows where he had initially been talking to John. The floor they were on was high and Virgil could see across a couple of blocks. It was far enough for him to see that the cops were indeed gathering, but clearly trying to make sure they stayed out of sight. They were at least a block away and Virgil knew they wouldn't come any closer. The terrorists seemed to have taken the whole building, judging by the fact he could just make out someone guarded the main door. Virgil was grateful that this was the top floor and he could only just see, meaning anyone on the lookout from further down wouldn't have the same view thanks to this floor jutting out further than the lower floors. The function room faced the other way, so this was the only window the cops could be seen from. Virgil moved back from the window, not wanting to risk someone looking up and seeing him as his mind raced. He had to get out of a guarded door, get to the cops and get them to take him seriously in time to get back before Scott did anything stupid. Glancing at his half-dressed appearance, Virgil grimaced.

This wasn't going to be easy.

"Where…._where_ hafs youuuu been?"

Virgil's eyes widened and he hid the gun behind his back as he slowly turned. How Naomi was even standing, he had no idea, but he knew from one glance at the girl that she couldn't quite place which was the real him and which was the weaving hallucination her mind was giving her. Virgil was more worried about how loudly her voice had come out and the threatening way she was brandishing the bottle in her hand. Letting the gun rest in his waistband again, he moved forward.

He watched her carefully as she swayed on the spot, making sure he didn't make any sudden movements. It only took a matter of moments before he closed the distance between them, reaching out to hold her still.

"No! No, you went and…and…and… You went."

Virgil winced at her loud voice and made to take the bottle from her.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"NO!" Naomi made to lunge for the bottle and somehow just fell onto Virgil's chest. He quickly put the bottle on the floor, managing to prop her up at the same time before straightening up. He made to take Naomi by the arm and get her back down onto the seat, but before he could move, he felt her hands dropping down his back. While earlier on in the evening, Virgil would have been pleased with the attention, he knew now was really not the time.

"C'mon…" he muttered, feeling his cheeks beginning to heat as her hands continued to wander. He felt her intake of breath the second she found the gun. Virgil reacted quickly, yanking her hands back around, but he wasn't quick enough. The gun was in Naomi's hands. She seemed to realise what she was holding and decided to wave it around a little.

"Just put it down." Virgil took a step towards her, but froze as the weapon was aimed in his direction. Naomi didn't seem to quite have a proper grip on it and Virgil knew that he was going to have to act fast in order to get it off her without anything happening.

"Stay back," she slurred, wildly waving it around. Virgil froze, glancing towards the doors as he did so. Luckily, they remained shut.

"I'm staying back. See, right here, not making another move. Why don't you just put it down, honey? You give me the gun and I'll give you your drink back?"

Naomi looked to be considering it for a moment before shaking her head.

"No. You left."

"Don't!" Virgil's own shout was too late, however, and he only managed to drop to the floor in time to avoid being shot as the gun went off. Naomi screamed loudly, dropping it almost as if she hadn't realised it was real. Virgil dove for the gun but swore as the doors immediately burst open.

"Get down!" he yelled at Naomi, attempting to aim the gun but realising he couldn't get a clear shot because of the way she was weaving all over the place. Three of the terrorists burst out into the bar and it only took one of them a moment to take note of the situation. Virgil swore as the man reached forward, grabbing hold of Naomi. She screamed again, but then gave a loud sob as the man's own gun was pushed under her chin.

"Drop it!" he ordered motioning with his head towards Virgil's gun. The artist hesitated, his eyes darting towards the other two men. Both were beginning to circle towards him and Virgil sighed, putting the gun down. He knew that he would never be able to take them out then get to Naomi before the man tightened the grip of his finger on the trigger.

"I think I've missed the pleasure of your company this evening, sweetheart," he muttered in Naomi's ear, eyes locked on Virgil the whole time. With the gun on the floor in front of him, Virgil slowly stood up, making sure he kept his movements controlled and his hands where the men could see them.

"Just let her go."

"Who do you think you are, attempting to give me orders?"

Virgil's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something to defend himself, although he wasn't sure what. But his words were driven from him as the men reached him and one wasted no time in sinking a fist into his stomach. As Virgil doubled over slightly, both of them grabbed his arms. Despite trying to shake them off, Virgil could do nothing to stop them as they spun him around and slammed him over the bar. Swallowing the cry of pain that threatened to escape him, Virgil just tried his hardest to fight back as they drew his arms behind him. One locked his arm into positioned and then let go with one hand, resting it against the back of Virgil's neck to keep him held down while his friend proceeded to cuff him. Once they were satisfied he was secured, the man's hand entwined in Virgil's collar and they pulled him upright again. Choking slightly, Virgil attempted to glare. The lead man pushed Naomi to one side and let her fall as he stalked towards Virgil.

"This looks expensive," he muttered, running his finger around the tie resting loosely around Virgil's neck. Virgil simply glared and the man smirked. As the tie was pulled from his neck and wrapped around his mouth, Virgil wondered for the first time that night whether he should have given into Scott's begging and been the one to go up for auction after all. He would take Mrs H over Naomi any day, but could do nothing as he was forced to his knees next to his would-be date and the doors were pulled closed again.

Virgil knew it couldn't bode well that they didn't want the others in the room to know he had been caught and he had a feeling Scott was walking straight into a trap.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry I seem to be so hit and miss with this at the moment! Hope you like this next bit._

* * *

Despite knowing there was no way he could have refused to give Mrs H a gun, Scott found himself regretting it as he stole along the corridor back towards the function room. He could have done with the extra ammunition - the weapon resting in his hands was short by a few rounds considering how many times the terrorists had fired into the ceiling. He just hoped that he would be able to disarm a few of them, maybe even take their own guns, before any harm could come to the other occupants of the room. It wasn't the first time this evening that he found himself cursing his father for holding such events, but his reasoning now was completely different from a few hours ago.

He knew there was potentially one person in the room who could help him. Gordon had told him the name of the man from the army, confirming Scott's suspicions of his military background. But the last time Scott had seen him, he had been unconscious after not being able to move quickly enough away from the men. Scott wasn't a fool, he knew he wouldn't be taking them on alone. Virgil would go and get help and then he would come back for his brother. It didn't matter that Scott had told him to go, or that Virgil had agreed he would only go and get help. Scott knew his brother; he knew that Virgil would be back. Considering he had send Virgil out armed so therefore would have him covering his back, part of Scott wished his brother would hurry up and sound the alarm so that he could return. Not that Scott was ever going to admit that, least of all to Virgil.

The hallway was deserted as Scott crept along it. The only sign of life he encountered was when he heard a furious pounding on one of the side doors, followed by a string of curses. Scott couldn't help but chuckle slightly, thinking back on how Virgil and Mrs H had escaped. How would Thrandon feel when it was the police who opened the door to let him out and he realised everything had been in vain? Scott was still disturbed about where he could have got his information from in regards to finding out who IR were, but he knew he couldn't dwell on that now. They would find out when they were back on the safety of the island and all of this was behind them.

It came as no surprise that the main doors were shut and Scott hesitated. If he was honest, he didn't really have a plan apart from getting back in there and trying to make sure that everyone was safe. But he knew if he just walked through the doors, all of the attention would be instantly fixed on him and he would most likely be shot before he had even worked out where the terrorists were standing. Scott glanced around, looking for something to give him a burst of inspiration.

If he was honest, he didn't exactly expect to find that inspiration. But as his eyes found a slither of light dancing across the floor, Scott found himself grinning. The main doors weren't the only way back in. Double checking that he was alone, Scott swiftly crossed the hallway and, holding his breath, inched open one of the stage doors. Freezing as soon as he could see through the small crack, Scott let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the stage was empty. They were clearly holding off with the bidding while Thrandon and the men he had sent to keep the pilot company were out of the room. Hoping that meant they didn't want to risk spreading their forces thin because they simply weren't good enough, Scott continued to open the door until he was able to slip through it.

Dropping into a crouch, Scott edged his way into the wings of the stage. Within seconds, he was reminded forcibly of why he had never done anything like this at school – there was barely any room to move, let alone plan anything - and instead checked that his gun was ready to fire at a second's notice. Stealing forward, Scott kept low and pressed himself into the fabric of the curtains. He didn't even know why there was such a formal stage and made a mental note to ask his father about the type of functions hosted here. After he had found out precisely who Mrs H was, that was.

It took a great deal of shuffling on Scott's part before he was able to get a look into the room while being sure that he couldn't be seen. He only had a limited view and he knew that he was going to have to break cover before long. It wasn't like he could just crouch there all night, but Scott found himself frowning when he realised that he could only make out one terrorist. He was sure it meant they had to be spread across the room and therefore out of his line of sight, but before he could wonder whether he would see more from the other side of the stage, a noise echoed throughout the room that made his heart pound uncomfortably hard.

Gunfire.

But it was muffled, almost as if it was coming through a shut door. Scott was certain that no one had left by the door closest to him, he would have heard something even if he hadn't seen anything. But that meant it had to have come from the other side, out in the bar somewhere. The same bar, Scott realised as he cursed under his breath, he had just sent Virgil out to with the hope his brother would be safe. Moving faster than he should considering he still had no desire to be seen, Scott edged forward, groaning in frustration as his hopes that somehow the noise wouldn't be heard by the terrorists were proved false and a couple of men went running for the door.

Taking his chance, Scott threw himself forward. Skidding on his stomach, he made sure that he kept low as he ended up lying along the stage. No one seemed to have noticed his movements, everyone's attention was taken up by the struggle that even Scott could hear happening out in the bar. Realising that Virgil was in trouble, Scott let his instincts take over and pulled the trigger. Until he knew for sure what was happening with his little brother, Scott was going to make sure they at least had a fighting chance.

There were only a few terrorists left in the room. One was standing behind Wasper, the men clearly not feeling comfortable about leaving him unguarded. Even though Scott could only see the back of his chair, he grinned in relief at seeing the man's movement and knowing that he was conscious. The first shot dropped the man standing guard to the floor and he clutched at his leg with a howl. The second man moved straight into Scott's line of vision as he tried to work out where the shot had come from and was in seconds shouting something Scott was glad his grandmother wasn't around to hear as he clutched his arm towards him. A few of the braver people sprung up, kicking the guns out of their hands and reach before backing away again.

Rolling forward, Scott dropped from the stage. Staying in a tight crouch, he let his gaze roam the room as he tried to work out what the situation was. The doors were shut, no one would be entering by stealth in that direction, it would be too obvious and Scott knew that he had to make the most of the confusion. If they had Virgil, he knew full well that the gun in his hands wouldn't matter, he would as good as give up if he knew it would mean keeping his little brother safe. His quick search allowed him to take down two more of the men before he was forced to freeze. The one he could seehad grabbed Nathan, using the young man as a shield as he backed up towards the door. Nathan initially struggled, but a hard punch to the face drove the resistance out of him, blood pouring from his nose as he went pale. Standing up slowly, Scott kept his gun trained on them as he edged around the room. A slamming door drew his attention just long enough for him to see someone stumbling out through the stage entrance and Scott swore. They would either let Thrandon out or get down as far as Mrs H.

But right now, Scott knew he couldn't think about that. The main doors were just beginning to open again and Scott let his eyes be drawn in that direction instead. Instantly, he felt the roof of his mouth go dry. He swivelled the gun around, knowing that he had a clear shot of at least one of the men walking slowly into the room, but he knew by the looks on their faces that they knew as well as he did that he was never going to take the shot. Nathan wasn't the only twin being held at gunpoint, despite the fact the man who had hold of Naomi seemed to be struggling to keep her standing more than actually threatening her.

But that wasn't what had drawn Scott's attention. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the figure standing in between two of the men. Virgil's eyes were ablaze with anger, but Scott could see from the way that he was holding himself that he was in pain. Scott wasn't surprised considering he could see that his brother's hands were tied behind him and his own tie was wrapped around his mouth. Virgil would not have gone down without a fight, even if Naomi was being threatened, and that coupled with his earlier fall, made Scott wince in sympathy.

"Put the gun down, boy."

The voice came from behind Virgil and Scott let his finger tense for a moment on the trigger, not making any move to put the weapon down. But then the owner of the voice stepped into view and Scott swallowed hard when he saw the gun aimed at his little brother's head. Virgil shook his head but when he only managed to get the gun pressing closer to his temple, Scott sighed. He let the resistance out of his body and slowly put the gun down on the floor, kicking it away from himself.

"Let him go." He spoke softly, yet knew there was a hint of authority in his voice, despite the situation. He was used to being obeyed, he always had been. First of all as a big brother, then during his stint with the Air Force and now as the Field Commander of International Rescue. Very few people could disobey him when he sounded like that and the other man's hand jerked a little before he managed to catch himself and remain steady.

"Get on your knees, put your hands on your head."

Scott slowly dropped, making sure that he didn't break eye-contact with Virgil. He was attempting to tell his brother without words that they were going to find a way to work themselves free, but as Virgil's gaze suddenly slid off to the left, Scott had a feeling his brother wasn't paying him the slightest bit of attention. Scott made to turn as Virgil's eyes widened in surprise, but an audible click right from behind him made him freeze. He swallowed hard, still preparing to look around, but as he felt the cold muzzle of a gun being placed at the top of his neck, he knew that would be a bad idea. He had to grit his teeth as it was pushed in harder, forcing him to bend his head down slightly.

"New plan, boys."

Scott growled at the sound of Thrandon's voice, but at the same time felt a spark of relief. If whoever had slipped out had been distracted by freeing him, then hopefully they wouldn't have had a reason to carry on down the corridor. With any luck, Thrandon being freed would mean that Mrs H would be safe, and by flicking his eyes up towards Virgil, Scott knew that his brother was thinking the same thing.

"Start shooting."

Scott felt his heart constrict painfully and he tried to get to his feet as people began to panic. Thrandon pushed the barrel of the gun closer to his head and Scott could tell by the change in pressure the man had crouched down next to him.

"You can save them, Scott," he murmured softly, giving Scott a second to watch as people began to be ushered towards the wall. He felt sick, knowing they were literally going to be facing a firing squad unless he did something about it. He thought he knew what Thrandon was going to ask of him and the man's next words just confirmed his suspicions. It seemed that whatever gang had Thrandon had joined to get this far, he was ignoring them and focusing on his own agenda. A glance around showed the other terrorists exchanging confused glances, clearly wondering if they were about to lose or gain everything by playing along with Thrandon's improvisation.

"Announce, first of all to everyone in here, then to the press when we get outside, who you really are and I'll call the boys off."

"Call them off first," Scott hissed back, desperately trying to buy some time as Naomi was shoved into her father's waiting arms and the terrorist finally let go of Nathan. Virgil, however, was hauled over to the opposite side, the gun never leaving his head. He was watching the scene with the same horrified expression that Scott knew was on his own face.

"Do I look stupid? Say it loud enough for my men to hear you and I'll let these people out of the building. I'll hold onto your brother, just for insurance sake, until you've announced it to the press. You can save all these people, Scott. All you have to do is talk."

"You're wrong though," Scott argued, knowing that he couldn't keep this pretence up. Thrandon seemed to be sounding madder every time he opened his mouth and Scott knew he couldn't risk him hurting anyone.

"Just say it!" Thrandon's shout made the whole room go silent and Scott knew the man was finally getting the audience he wanted as everyone looked over at them. Scott found himself glancing towards Virgil, who held his gaze steadily for a moment before dropping his eyes. Scott knew that his brother had understood what had been said and knew that they were trapped. It was one thing when it was their own lives being threatened, but when it was a room full of innocent people, what choice did they have?

"I…" He didn't have the chance to say anything else, however, before the bang of a gun going off made him jump. Thrandon jolted in agony, a cry escaping from him and Scott seized his chance. Reaching back, he grabbed Thrandon by the arm and somehow managed to flip him over until he was flat out on the floor. To Scott's amazement, the back of his shoulder was bleeding heavily and the man cried out as it connected with the floor. Plucking the gun from his hand, Scott glanced back over his shoulder in the direction the bullet must have come from.

He almost dropped the gun again in surprise when he caught sight of Mrs H standing there, a rifle smoking ever so slightly in her hands. She caught his gaze and nodded solemnly at him before leaning heavily against the side of the stage. Blinking – almost as if he thought his eyes might be playing tricks on him – Scott turned. Everyone else seemed just as stunned as he did but Scott knew that couldn't last. Taking aim, he almost held his breath as he fired Thrandon's gun, but his shot was true. The man threatening Virgil dropped his gun with a shout as his hand took the brunt of the bullet and Scott was moving before anyone else had the chance to react. The sheer chaos in the room meant the other hostages were rushing away from the wall again and the remaining terrorists didn't stand a chance. They seemed to be panicking, revealing that this clearly hadn't been part of their plan and now they didn't know what to do now that they had lost control of the situation.

"Nathan! Untie him!" Making sure his shout carried as an order, Scott almost sighed in relief when Nathan nodded and moved across to untie Wasper. Before Scott had reached Virgil, Wasper had jumped to his feet and almost casually disarmed another man. Satisfied that side of the room would be kept as safe as possible, Scott slammed his fist into one of the men holding Virgil and struck the other over the head with the butt of the gun. Both dropped and Scott swiftly pulled the tie from Virgil's mouth.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Gonna ache like hell in the morning, but I'm fine."

Scott spun him around and cursed when he saw the handcuffs. Dropping down next to the man who had been holding the gun, Scott swiftly searched his pockets and grinned when a small key fell into his hand and allowed him to release his brother properly. Just as he did so, the sound of sirens could be heard growing louder by the second and Scott didn't need a second thought to know where they were headed. As Virgil turned back around, Scott frowned at the look of confusion on his brother's face.

"I didn't get the chance to call for help," he admitted and Scott rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

"One job, Virg. I give you one job and John has to just step in and take over, doesn't he?" It must have been obvious to John that the cops weren't moving, meaning something had gone wrong with Virgil getting the message out.

Virgil returned his grin a little ruefully before turning to survey the rest of the room. People were spilling out into the bar, rushing around in a panic. Scott knew that this was going to be just as dangerous as having guns held at their heads and he shared a knowing look with Virgil.

"Time to play the rescuer?"

"Do we ever get a day off?"

Firing his gun three times at the ceiling, Scott sneezed as another load of dust sprinkled down on them.

"Everyone, stay calm and still!" he yelled, making sure his voice carried and letting a wave of relief crash through him as the people seemed to respond to his shout and stopped pushing at each other to get to the stairs. As he took a step forward, he was sure he heard Virgil muttering something about their father killing them himself for the state of the ceiling and he had to bite back a grin as he began to take control of the situation.

He knew he had been dreading the night for a reason. Next time, he was going to remind the rest of the family that they normally trusted his instincts while out on a rescue and so they should trust him when he said that he didn't really want to go to an auction dinner.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you for all of the lovely reviews again._

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There were times Virgil hated the fact that Scott was always the one to take charge of everything, whether they were on a rescue or at home. But as he stood casually against the main doors, arms folded across his chest and the gun resting by his feet, Virgil wouldn't have had it any other way. He was supposed to be keeping guard in case any of the terrorists decided they were going to take their chances and run for it. But right now, they were all on the stage under Wasper's guard and didn't look like they were going anywhere.

Scott, however, was shouting to make himself heard. The guests had initially fallen silent when Scott had taken control, too shaken up to try and protest. Now, however, they seemed to realise the threat was over and the fact that they were supposed to be important people. They all seemed to be clamouringfor attention, demanding they be the first to leave, insisting that their own security could handle the situation rather than waiting for the cops to arrive. Virgil knew that Scott was aware that the cops were almost upon the building and so was not taking the chance of anyone leaving in case they were caught in any crossfire. A glance out of the window had revealed to Virgil that the guards downstairs were still in place, clearly having no idea that their comrades had been disarmed and the situation neutralised.

"I thought he was supposed to be good at this?"

Virgil grinned, turning to Mrs H. The old lady had finally put down the gun and Virgil knew that the terrorists weren't the only ones to have let out a sigh of relief.

"He hates dealing with rich people," Virgil muttered, inwardly wincing at the irony of his statement. They were only here because their father was hosting the whole event in the building he owned. Unable to stop himself, Virgil found that he was glancing towards the ceiling. He had to smirk; this wasn't the first time he and Scott had managed to ruin a room after being left in it, but he had the excuse of being only ten the first time it had happened. Mrs H made a noise of agreement at the back of her throat and Virgil found himself turning to face her properly.

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly, trying to work the woman out. She obviously had money, the amount she had paid for Scott at the beginning of the night had proved that. But even if her husband was of high authority in the Air Force, it wouldn't have given her a pension that big. That was without even thinking about the connections she had to their father and the fact that she knew precisely who they were. The boys all knew the names of their agents, they had to make sure they knew who they could contact if they needed help on a rescue. But Virgil was sure that Scott would have been aware of Mrs H considering he had past contact with her; there was no way she would have slipped under the radar this successfully.

"You need to ask your father that."

"Oh come on…" The look that Virgil found himself subjected to was so like one his grandmother would give him that he found himself blushing.

"Will you lot please just shut up!"

Virgil winced at Scott's shout, but found that his attention was distracted in the silence. Just as everyone stopped talking, an almighty bang came floating up through the open doors, followed by a flurry of gunfire. Scott whirled on the spot and Virgil just hoped that he was the only one who noticed the way his brother's hand automatically returned to the gun still hanging around his neck. Virgil shook his head the tiniest amount, telling the man without words there was nothing for him to worry about. It didn't surprise him that Scott was so much on edge and he just found himself hoping that none of the terrorists tried anything. He wasn't sure he would actually be able to stop Scott from doing anything rash if it came to that. He had seen the look in Scott's eyes when Virgil had been brought into the room bound and he knew that had been the last straw for his big brother.

"What's happening? Are they back? I knew you wouldn't have been able to keep us secured. We're all going to die!"

Virgil didn't even know who the man was who had started speaking, but he did recognise the tension rippling through the back of Scott's shoulders.

"If he doesn't shut up, it will be Scott who kills him," Virgil muttered in an undertone, making sure that it was only Mrs H who could hear him.

"No one is going to harm you, you have my word…"

"Fancy words for someone who couldn't protect his own brother."

"Uh oh…" Virgil bent down, using his foot to flick his own weapon back into his hand. Of all the things the man could have said, that was the worst. He didn't need to see Scott's face to know his brother would have an expression like thunder, and judging by the way the man seemed to recoil slightly, Virgil knew he was right.

"You listen here…." Scott moved towards the man, but before he could say another word, Mrs H stepped forward.

"And you have very fancy words for someone who screamed like a girl and had to be propped up by his wife as he almost fainted when they first arrived . I would watch what you say to the man with the gun in his hand, Mr Robinson, or it won't be those men on the stage that you have to worry about."

"Why you…"

"Don't show any disrespect to the lady, Sir," Virgil ordered, making sure that this Mr Robinson could see the gun in his hand and understand that Scott wasn't the only one who knew how to use one. The man looked like he was about to open his mouth again, but that was when Scott let the safety catch off his own weapon. Silence fell once more, and following Scott's pointed nod, Virgil moved through the bar. Reaching the top of the stairs he glanced down, wondering if any of the officers needed any help and whether Scott was even going to let him go down there if they did. In a way, considering Scott's temper right now, Virgil was grateful when the first officer appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He simply nodded on seeing Virgil standing there and moved back to report.

With a quick check around that no one was either in earshot or paying him any attention, Virgil lifted his watch.

"John, what do they know?"

"_That the situation is under control." _

John's voice came floating back instantly and Virgil found himself grinning. It was going to make things so much easier if the cops didn't come charging in guns blazing, especially considering he and Scott were the only ones still holding weapons.

"Thanks." Knowing it was taking too much of a risk talking to John in the open like this, Virgil disconnected and moved back into the room. Catching Scott's eye, he quickly relayed what he knew and watched the tension practically drain from his brother as Scott nodded his understanding. Moving back across to Mrs H, Virgil realised just how tired the old lady was looking and quickly moved to get a chair. He had to practically cross the whole room until he could find one and found himself right next to the stage. Thrandon saw him coming and leant over, leering.

"You think you can just get away with it? I'm still going to tell the world."

"You do that." Virgil picked up the chair and moved back across, but his heart was beating fast even as the cops finally made it into the room and began to take control of the situation.

"What's wrong with you, boy?"

Placing the chair down for Mrs H, Virgil gestured to it and sighed as he helped her sit down.

"He's still threatening to tell," he murmured quietly, making sure to keep his voice low even as he watched the cops begin to handcuff the terrorists. More and more men were spilling into the room until uniforms were everywhere, a scattering of paramedics making their way over to the guests. As Virgil looked, Scott turned around and caught his eye, jerking his head towards one of the paramedics and giving Virgil a meaningful look. Virgil firmly shook his head, moving back around until he could stand behind Mrs H's chair in the hope she would save him from Scott's stare. His brother's eyes narrowed into a glare as he gestured towards the paramedics again, but Virgil adamantly refused. He hurt all over, he wasn't going to deny that, but he also knew that it was nothing more than severe bruising. Considering the guests were now beginning to argue over who was more important and so should be seen first, despite no one other than the Tracys and Wasper being hurt, there was no way Virgil was going over there. Nathan had received attention since he was obviously bloodied and Scott seemed to be heading in the other direction to put distance between him and those who could help. It was such a Scott thing to do that Virgil rolled his eyes, especially considering Scott was still motioning at the same time.

"Now that is more the spoilt rich boy look I was expecting." Mrs H had also been watching Scott, but Virgil chuckled.

"Oh no. That's his big brother look when he wants me to do something and I don't want to." He put the gun back down on the floor and found he was moving around the chair until he was sitting at Mrs H's feet. They sat in silence for a moment as Scott talked to one of the officers and the terrorists began to be taken out. Despite the fact that they had been disarmed, the officers were using extreme caution and clearly didn't want too many of them on the stairs at once when they couldn't use their greater numbers to an advantage. Eventually, Scott came over and without hesitation sank to the floor and sat in the same way as Virgil.

"Is it over?" the younger brother asked softly, realising how tired he was feeling and how much he just wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week.

Scott nodded softly. "They said they would be in touch. I might have name-dropped a little and made them leave us alone for a couple of days. We need to clear with Dad precisely what the story is going to be about Thrandon."

"About him…" Virgil twisted until he could look at Scott properly. "He's still threatening to talk."

"'Course he is. He thinks that everyone is going to listen to him and he'll still win afterall of this."

"So what do we do?" Virgil hated the way that Scott didn't answer, knowing it was because his brother wasn't quite sure what to say. It was one thing being able to get the police to leave them alone for a few days, but it was another thing entirely if Thrandon started talking now. Virgil was fully aware there would be a media gathering outside by the time they got out there; some of America's richest had been involved after all. They couldn't let Thrandon say anything that could threaten everything they had ever worked for.

"Then you better get down there first and make sure you cut him off."

Both boys jumped at the business-like tone to Mrs H's voice, yet Virgil found that he was getting to his feet anyway. Thrandon had been the last to be taken down; Virgil knew the man would have only just got to the bottom of the stairs by now. Considering Scott was also climbing to his feet, Virgil had a feeling that his brother was thinking the same thing. They took one look at each other and Scott nodded, moving towards the stairs. Virgil fell into step with him, but they didn't get very far. Virgil found himself watching with a grimace as Martin was placed on a stretcher as the paramedics waited for the elevator to get him out. It was only because of the calm expressions on their faces that Virgil knew the man would be alright, just maybe with a heavy concussion. Scott, however, turned back to Mrs H.

"Don't go anywhere." His tone was light, but Virgil could hear the concern in it. It was only their father's confirmation that he knew Mrs H that had stopped Scott from completely freaking out, but they still had the issue of not really knowing who she was yet realising that she seemed to know everything about them. Virgil glanced around in time to see her nod knowingly, the twinkle in her eye revealing Mrs H knew precisely why Scott was attempting to make sure they got answers. Virgil wasn't surprised; she was the one who had said she thought Scott was a bad actor.

"You go and finish saving the day, sweetie, I'll be right here."

Virgil found himself glancing at his brother only to see Scott chewing his lip in uncertainty. Realising they had to get downstairs before Thrandon caught the attention of the press, Virgil grabbed Scott's arm and began dragging him towards the stairs. It seemed far longer than just a few hours ago that he had been dragging him _away_ from said stairs.

As soon as Mrs H was out of sight, Scott seemed to snap out of his daze and the pair ran swiftly down.

"What are we going to say?" Virgil asked as they ran through the lobby and stopped. They couldn't look like they were worried in case it gave anything Thrandon said credibility. That was the last thing they could afford to happen and the two brothers took a moment to make sure they looked like they were stumbling from a hostage situation rather than still on a mission to make sure their secret remained as that: a secret.

"No idea." Scott reached over and tugged at the corner of Virgil's collar, making at least one of the bruises be revealed. His brother just about bit back a yelp as a couple of the buttons sprung of in the process, opening the shirt more than Scott tried to bat him away, but Scott was already moving. It was either risk being left behind while he sorted himself out or move and know that the media could see him looking the worse for wear. Hoping that none of the pictures he was sure were about to be taken ever made it back to his grandmother, Virgil hurried after Scott. He caught up with him just as Scott was walking out of the building, flashing lights immediately greeting them as the media circus Virgil had predicted instantly turned their attention onto the brothers. Virgil didn't realise he was doing it, but for a split second he ducked behind Scott. For his whole life – at least, ever since his father had become a name and that went back almost as far as Virgil could remember clearly - he had let his brother sort out the media. It was one of their unwritten rules whenever they came across someone with a camera: tell Scott. But the pilot seemed to realise what he was doing and neatly stepped to one side, making sure they could see Virgil as well. Virgil contemplated glaring, but realised that a picture of him glaring at the back of Scott's head would be ripe for as much interpretation from the rest of the world as the whole situation here.

"There they are! That's them! International Rescue!"

Virgil cursed in his head as Thrandon's shout came out of nowhere, but he had to give Scott some credit. For all of Mrs H's complaints about him not being able to act, Scott looked every inch as surprised as the media, instantly turning to look around as if he was expecting to see someone else standing there.

"Who? Who is he talking about?"

Virgil found he was hard pushed not to laugh. Scott had deliberately lowered his tone to make it look like he was just addressing Virgil, but at the same time had made sure every recording device in the vicinity picked up his words.

"I'm telling you, it _is_ them!"

"This man is claiming you are a member of International Rescue, Mr Tracy. How do you and your brother respond?"

To Virgil's amazement, Scott laughed.

"I would like to say that I'm flattered he thinks that much of us. But I'm afraid that is as ludicrous as saying… oh I don't know, our watches can talk to people in outer space."

The journalists surrounding them all laughed, many turning to each other to confirm it had just been the ravings of a man condemned. But through the crowd Virgil caught Thrandon's eye and smirked at the outraged expression on his face as he was pushed into the waiting police car. Scott took his arm and began leading him away, claiming – to Virgil's annoyance – that he wanted to make sure his little brother was okay.

"Virg?" As soon as they were out of earshot, Scott's pretence dropped and he looked worried. "You got my watch back, right?"

Virgil gasped, letting the horror show on his face as Scott stared at him. Just as he thought his brother was about to rush back and do something stupid, Virgil laughed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out said watch. He had almost forgotten he had taken it, but when he had locked the man in the room he had made sure that Thrandon had been left with nothing that could incriminate them. Scott snatched it off him with a glare.

"Oh come on, I can do some things you know," Virgil moaned, yawning again. Something in Scott's expression softened and he turned his brother in the direction of the penthouse.

"Come on, let's go home."


	12. Chapter 12

_So here we are, the last chapter. I can't thank you enough for all of the gorgeous comments and support with this, they have really meant a lot to me. I really hope you like this last chapter._

_Of course, where would any story be without a fab beta? Thank you once again, Bee._

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"You look like one of your canvases."

Scott made his way outside, blinking in the bright sunlight but unable to stop himself from running his eyes over his brother in concern. Virgil was sprawled across a sun lounger, his arm flung somewhat pathetically over his head in order to try and stop the sun from getting into his eyes. But from where his shirt had risen up slightly, Scott could see the scattering of bruises. He knew they extended up over Virgil's torso and gave his brother a colourful appearance that had almost given their grandmother a heart attack when they had got back to the island.

After a few phone calls and lots of string-pulling, the two Tracys were allowed to leave. With Scott's initial contact ensuring they could give their statements once they were back on the island and then Jeff asserting a little authority as well, the cops had been more than happy to let them go. They almost seemed relieved to have them gone and Scott knew he hadn't been helping matters by getting in the way. He had been trying to help, not used to being classed as a victim, but when a paramedic had forced a blanket over his shoulders for the fifth time, only Virgil had been able to get him to calm down.

Despite wanting to get straight back home, their father had strictly forbidden them to fly until they had had at least had a night's sleep. Scott had grumbled and threatened to disobey the man, but then seemed to realise just how heavily Virgil was beginning to lean on him and knew that going back to the apartment for a few hours would do them far more good than heading home. Virgil knew that Scott was just using him as an excuse. The man had been beaten up and he could tell that Scott was hurting even if he wasn't admitting it. The way he was holding himself betrayed his pain to his brother and Virgil had insisted they waited before flying. By the time morning came around, however, Mrs H had been at their door claiming that she was coming as well.

Scott had taken one look at Virgil's face and called their father. After an hour or so of whispered conversations while Scott tried to figure out what on earth was going on, they were finally ready to go - with one more passenger than they had come out with. Both of the boys had still been a little dubious about what their father was planning by bringing Mrs H out to the island, but Jeff had put forward a compelling argument they had no response for. Not only did she already know the secret that tended to make them avoid visitors, but she had also saved their lives. Neither of them could deny it and so both had just given each other confused glances as the plane took off.

They had arrived just as the sun was beginning to set. Scott had tried to get answers, but had instead found himself hauled down to the infirmary. If he was honest, Scott hadn't noticed where Gordon had been dragging him until he was sitting on a bed with Brains standing over him, a clipboard in his hand. A brief struggle later – which resulted in Gordon sitting on his brother's legs – and Brains had to admit there was nothing wrong with him other than a few scrapes. Despite Virgil's bruising being somewhat more spectacular than his brother's, he was also cleared. He might have been stiff and sore, but there was nothing serious.

Yet again, Scott had gone for answers. Only this time, he had been met by his grandmother. It was only the fact that he had already been to the infirmary that stopped her from drilling him about everything that hurt. Instead, she simply fixed him with a look and sent him to bed. Virgil had snorted with amusement until her gaze had been turned on him and the same command given. Both men had looked at each other and hurried up the stairs. They might not have had an issue about taking on a room full of terrorists, but when it came to resisting their grandmother's orders, they knew better than to refuse.

Not that Scott would ever admit it, but he did feel a lot better when he woke late the next morning. It came as no surprise that Virgil was still asleep, yet Scott had stood in his brother's doorway for a long moment just to reassure himself that everything was okay with the younger man. When he had finally made it downstairs, it was to find Mrs H was in the office with his father and no amount of pleading (or whining) on Scott's behalf could get them to let him in and explain what was going on. Eventually, Scott had just passed the time talking to John.

Now, however, Virgil was finally up and the file clutched in Scott's hand would give them all the answers they had been after ever since Mrs H had paid to be Scott's date for the evening.

"What's that?"

Scott shrugged, sitting on the edge of Virgil's sun lounger and visually checking his brother over. Virgil had lowered his arm, but that didn't stop him from glaring at his brother.

"I'm fine." He had his teeth gritted as he spoke and Scott had a feeling that he was going to end up in the pool if he didn't stop. He offered a sheepish smile and dumped the file on the chair next to them.

"Apparently everything we want to know."

"Then what am I going to talk to John about?"

Scott chuckled, prodding his brother in his leg. Virgil grinned back but the smile slipped as he focused on the folder. "Have you looked yet?"

"I didn't think you would ever forgive me if I did," Scott murmured, letting his hand stretch out and ghost over the top of the file. He looked up and caught Virgil's eye, who nodded. Why he was so nervous about this, Scott had no idea. But he thought he had known everything there was to know about International Rescue. To have someone he already had a link with suddenly turn up knowing more than they should had shaken him up.

"Where is she?"

"Trying to get a recipe off Grandma." Scott glanced up and saw the look on Virgil's face. His brother's struggle to contain himself caused Scott to crack and both of them burst out laughing. Mrs H could take down terrorists with a single chair throw, but hadn't seemed to have worked out how to get their grandmother to give up some of her famous recipes.

"Go on then." Virgil nodded his head towards the file and Scott knew that now was the time to find out precisely who Mrs H was. He flicked it open, angling it around so both of them could see it. The first few pages they had seen before, some of the early documentationfor International Rescue. Scott turned the pages, not knowing what it was he was looking for but certain he would know it when he saw it.

"There."

Virgil leant forward, pointing to something on one of the pages. Scott pulled it closer.

"That's the Air Force symbol. What is it doing in here?" He glanced at Virgil, who looked just as confused as he did, before starting to read.

"_The correct authority for American airspace needs to be granted before unidentified craft can pass over without an automatic hostile reaction… two signatures needed to vouch for the security of such aircraft… The witnesses have to have served under a military constitution and be fully liable for the craft they are supporting…"_

"What does that mean?"

Scott shook his head, not being sure, and continued to scan the rest. After a moment, he sat back and let a whistle slide through his teeth.

"I think it means Dad had to grovel. And Mrs H did more than just be married to a commander."

"What?"

Scott shook his head, frowning as he had one last read-through. Eventually, he set it to one side.

"We couldn't fly over the US without some sort of guarantee that we weren't a threat. Dad needed someone to vouch for us so we didn't get shot down every single time we headed in that direction."

"And that's how Mrs H knows who we were? She was the one?"

"Look here," Scott spun the document so Virgil could see where he was pointing. "Those two signatures."

"Is that an R? And an H? RH! Regina Harris. But who is that one?" Virgil's satisfaction at being able to decipher the scrawl vanished when he turned his attention to the second signature and he tried to make it out.

"DH," Scott said quietly. "Donald Harris. Otherwise known as Commander Harris."

"As in..?"

"As in her husband, yes. As in my old captain. Dad must have known that I trusted them with my life. I never met her when I was there, but there was talk that he had a wife serving elsewhere. I don't get why…"

"...Dad didn't tell us about this?"

Scott nodded, not surprised that Virgil knew what he had been thinking. The two sat in silence for a moment, their thoughts racing as they tried to figure out what was happening.

"Maybe he just didn't want us to worry," Virgil finally mused. As Scott glanced at him quizzically, Virgil pressed on. "You saw how we were after I was shot down. We were all over the place. You barely wanted us to leave the island. If we knew that had once been a threat every time we took off, would we have been able to do it?"

Scott shrugged, not really knowing what to say. Virgil's explanation made sense, but that didn't mean he liked that they had been kept in the dark. Two people's signatures on a piece of paper were all that had stopped them being targeted every time they tried to help half of the world and they had never been told. Scott didn't think that was fair somehow. Even if the others hadn't been told, as Field Commander he should have been informed about the potential threat.

"Scott? He would have been doing what was best for us." Virgil had sat forward, his hand resting on his brother's arm. As Scott looked at him, he smiled and moved away again, but his message had been clear. He had once again known what Scott had been thinking and didn't want his brother to dwell on it. Luckily for Scott, both of their watches beeped before he could let himself get any more worked up.

"What's up, John?"

"_Take it you haven't been watching the news?"_

"Why would we need to when you are clearly just about to tell us what is happening?"

Virgil smirked at the deadpan note to Scott's voice, but didn't say anything to the contrary.

"_Maybe I won't tell you now…"_

"C'mon, Johnny, he didn't mean it. What's happening in the world that we need to know about it now?"

"_Thrandon's been sent to trial. It's next week."_

"That's a bit fast, isn't it? They haven't even asked us for our statements yet." There was disbelief lining Scott's voice as he expressed his confusion.

"_Apparently trying to take on some of the world's richest wasn't a good move. I don't know who has been pulling strings, but someone is pushing it along."_

"I reckon it is the twins," Virgil said, finally lying back down across the lounger and swinging his legs up. Scott shifted as his brother kicked him, but found that his gaze was drawn back to the house and he was shaking his head.

"I don't think so."

"_Then who?"_

"Dad," Scott said simply, acutely aware that Virgil was staring at him and had John been there, there would have been a matching expression on that brother's face as well.

"Dad doesn't normally get involved with something like this, Scott, you know that."

"He does if IR is on the line. Think about it: if it is pushed through, no big-name lawyer will have time to take on the case, no opponent from the other end of the world who wants some of those rich people taken down a peg or two will have time to get involved. And if they can't get involved with the case, Thrandon won't be able to keep talking about us being International Rescue. Or, at least, if he is talking, no one will be listening."

"How does he know that, anyway?"

Scott shrugged, glancing at his watch. If anyone knew, it would be John. Sure enough, his brother had an answer.

"_Gordon and I are still working on it, but we think he was in Kansas when the early plans for the 'birds came through. I've managed to pull up enough evidence that shows he could have gained access to the factories; he was still working for the C.I.A back then and any new businesses were given the once-over by officials to make sure they were financially sound and legit and all that. We think he saw something, then when everything else went wrong for him, he tried to make his name once again."_

Virgil whistled and Scott found that he was echoing the feeling. They had been so careful ever since they had begun operations to make sure that no one figured out who they were so that they couldn't be compromised. It had never crossed his mind that something from their past would be the one thing to nearly pull the whole thing apart.

"Has anyone believed him or even taken interest yet?"

"_Nope. According to the rest of the world, Zeb Thrandon is a loose cannon and a liability."_

"Zeb? His name is Zeb?"

As John confirmed it, Virgil burst out laughing.

"You were beaten up by a man named Zeb," he chuckled, ignoring the deathly glare that Scott was shooting him. John took that as his sign to swiftly sign off, although Scott had a feeling that was because he, too, was trying to hide his laughter.

"You were held at gunpoint by the same man."

"Yeah, but he actually attacked you while you were playing the rich boy act."

"Virgil!"

"_Boys!" _

Scott had barely left the seat before the sharp voice rang through the air and he swiftly sat back down again. Virgil bit his lip in order to control his laughter, but Scott couldn't help but note the way he too had sat up a little straighter as their grandmother came out to the pool. She wasn't alone though, and Scott saw the way Mrs H's eyes darted down to the file then back to his face. Her small smile indicated she knew that they had figured out how she was involved.

"What has you two squabbling?" Grandma's hands were on her hips and Scott knew they had no choice but to answer.

"Virgil…"

"I did nothing, Grandma! Just merely pointed out that…"

"You were laughing at me!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"Captain Tracy!"

It had been years since Scott had last been called that, but the reaction was almost instant. He was on his feet before he knew what he was doing and could hear Virgil once again trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't get away with it though, as his grandmother turned her steely gaze onto him.

"That's quite enough from you, young man. Go and clear up that mess you have made in your studio."

"Grandma…"

"Now."

Virgil got to his feet with a wince as Scott let his posture begin to relax slightly. He caught Virgil's eye as the artist turned towards the house and knew as they met eyes that both had forgiven the other. There was no point in fighting with one another if it meant going up against their grandmother - they had never been able to win. Scott took a small step after him, but a throat-clearing made him stop again.

"You have not been dismissed, pilot."

Scott made to say something, but before he could do so, an outraged shout echoed out from the villa.

"How did you DO that?" Gordon came barrelling out of the house and skidded to a stop, staring at Mrs H in disbelief. As she just smiled sweetly at him, Gordon turned to face Scott, his expression incredulous.

"She just passed all the stimulators on Four first time! First time, Scott! It took me two to get past the rock fall when we first started up and I know for a fact you still can't do it."

Scott blushed, but Gordon was too far gone in his rant to truly pay attention.

"And she has done it first time!"

"She can also disarm someone with a chair," Scott said quietly, his eyes glinting as Gordon's jaw dropped.

"A _chair?"_

"Saved my life." Scott didn't know why he was telling Gordon this, but there weren't many occasions that they could render the redhead speechless, so the oldest brother was making the most of it. Gordon, however, suddenly stopped looking disbelieving and grinned.

"Told you I could get him to admit it."

Scott blinked as Gordon turned to Mrs H and held out his hand. The old lady sighed and handed him a couple of bills. It was Scott's turn to feel his jaw drop.

"You made a bet?" Scott didn't care that his voice came out slightly higher in pitch than he was used to, he was too busy staring at his brother in disbelief.

"You're too proud, Scotty, we didn't think you would ever say that you were saved by someone Grandma's age."

Scott gaped, looking from Gordon and back to Mrs H and realising they both had identical glints in their eyes. Even his grandmother was wearing a knowing smile and Scott realised he had been well and truly tricked. Knowing there was only one solution left to him, he grabbed the back of Gordon's shirt, wrestled the money out of Gordon's hand and pushed him backwards. Gordon managed to keep his balance, but Scott felt like he had been tricked enough for one day. Shoving his brother in the chest, he sent Gordon flying into the water with a splash and took off into the house, hearing the two ladies laughing behind him.

Next time there was any sort of charity event, he was going to make sure Gordon was the one to attend.


End file.
